


All is lost, hope remains

by Elfo98



Category: Teen Wolf (TV), The Maze Runner Series - James Dashner
Genre: Crossover, F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-01
Updated: 2017-06-30
Packaged: 2018-05-10 19:01:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 26,687
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5597164
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elfo98/pseuds/Elfo98
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The world is fine. The Flare doesn't exist.<br/>They finally escape from Wicked and Thomas goes back to Beacon Hills, where he finds out his names is Stiles, his father is a cop and his mother is dead. Slowly, his memory comes back and everything gets back to the way it was before Wicked... well, except from all the supernatural things that happen in that city.<br/>His life is completely messed up.<br/>He thinks that things couldn't get worse, but he's wrong.<br/>The only thing that helps him go through all of that, is the memory of a boy with sandy blond hair and his promise.</p><p>Takes place during season 3B.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

_"He’s dead!"_ _Someone took him away from Janson’s unharmed body. He’d killed him, he’d choked the life out of him. A man like him didn’t deserve such a rapid death, but given the circumstances he had to be content with it. "He’s dead! We have to get out of here!" Minho said again whilst dragging him towards the exit of the building, W.I.C.K.E.D.’s basement, the organization that had taken innocent children from their houses, from their families, to subject them to infernal and absolutely useless trials. They’d removed their memories, making them believe that everything they were going through was for a good cause: the world was in chaos, they'd said, solar flares have hit the Earth destroying everything that’s good and bringing the Flare, a mortal disease. And they have to find a cure._

_But here's the thing, any of it really existed, the world was fine. A lot of kids had died because of them, and for what? For a fantasy of a bunch of men completely out of their minds._

_The two of them reached the outside just in time for the door to fall apart and close the passage. The few survivors of the trials were all there, wounded, weak, destroyed by sorrow and by the weight of such a brutal experience, but still alive. Some of them were crying for their friends’ death, others were looking at the building without really seeing it._

_Thomas looked for someone in particular, a blond boy with a slight limp, hoping that they hadn’t left him behind: he hadn’t had time to check if he was still by his side during the fight, so he’d put his faith on the fact that Newt was smart and perfectly  able to save himself._

_After a while he saw him not too far away, talking to Teresa and Brenda. He seemed out of breath and a bit bruised, but he was safe and so Thomas could finally relax._

_"Newt!" he shouted, approaching him as the other turned to him with a weak smile, before being engulfed by the brunet’s strong arms._

_"I’m fine, Tommy." the boy whispered hugging him back._

_Thomas didn’t want to let go of him because he was afraid that, if he did, he would have disappeared._ _He’d been so close as to losing him for good, so close... he couldn’t think of a life away from W.I.C.K.E.D. without him, without that reassuring grin drawn on his face which had the power to make him believe that, despite all that was going on, everything was going to be fine. And he also could have never forgiven himself if…._

_A cough brought him back to reality and his attention was drawn to the raven girl behind the boy: Teresa. He reluctantly moved away  to hug her too: it didn’t make sense to keep holding grudges with her for what had happened in the Scorch, the second Trial;  after all she was the one who’d saved them. She had managed to get her memory back and warn them before it was too late._

_He then greeted Brenda, Jorge, Frypan and Gally too. Maybe he could be able to finally get along with the latter from now on._

_"Well…"_ _Minho spoke again when Thomas was done. "What do we do now? We can’t stay here forever, someone will come to see what happened."_

_"I want to find my family" Brenda said out of nowhere, as if it was the most natural thing in the world. Sure, she had point, but Thomas had thought that they would have stayed together after escaping._

_"What? Why?"_

_"I want to make sure they’re fine... it hasn’t been so long since W.I.C.K.E.D. took me. Worst case scenario, I could still stay with Jorge." the girl lifted her gaze to the man that was probably like a father to her by now, who put an arm on her shoulders to pull her closer._

_"Don’t worry, hermano. I’ll take care of her."_

_Thomas looked at her with pleading eyes. Letting her go meant not seeing her anymore, and Brenda was like a best friend to him now._

_Teresa was the one who spoke, and her words shocked him: "I think we all should."_

_"What?!"_

_"Tom," she watched him softly. "A lot of us still have families looking for and probably even crying for us. We can’t ignore them."_

_"Like you?" he asked._

_Teresa shook her head. "No, I got no one to go back to. But you do." she took a deep breath. "When we met, you told me about your parents. About your best friend and the girl you had a crush on since third grade…"_

_Thomas blushed at the last revelation and unconsciously glanced at Newt._

_"Tom, you have to go back to them." Teresa took his hands. "You have to go back to Beacon Hills. Take your life back."_

_"What about you guys?"_

_"I’ll help the others find theirs." she looked at them and they nodded in response. Thomas didn’t want to leave them, they’d become his family, his only safety, he couldn’t leave. Newt must’ve read him, because he suddenly approached him and put a hand on his shoulder: "Don’t worry, Tommy. As soon as we’re settled, we’ll come and see you. You can go, you have the right to."_

_The brunet shook his head, refusing to look at him: "I can’t leave you."_

_"Hey, look at me." the blond placed a finger under his chin to lift his head, so that their eyes could meet. "I’ll be back, I promise."_

_That grin again. It was weak, but it was there. And Thomas knew that, no matter how many years it would take, Newt would have kept his promise._

_He nodded with new hope: "Okay."_

_"You have to wake up now though, Tommy." he said again. "You hear me? Wake up, Tommy._ Wake up! _"_

 

Stiles wakes up screaming, drowning in sweat in his father’s arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, I hope you enjoyed! More to come soon, I promise :)  
> Let me know what you think about it!  
> And Happy New year!!!


	2. We're all going a little crazy

Stiles watches his own reflection in the mirror of the bathroom: he looks tired and the droplets of the water he’s splashed his face with a while ago are drifting off it. The house is completely silent, but the boy knows that his dad’s waiting just outside the door to make sure he’s fine, like every other night since a couple of weeks. He’s getting used to nightmares about the Nemeton, but this... this has never happened. It’s the first time in two years that he dreams about the Gladers. Not that he’s forgotten about them, no, but all the weird things that Stiles has had to face lately haven’t let him think about it too much.

Now though, he keeps seeing Newt’s grin, realizing just how much he misses him, how much he misses all of them. He’s never told anybody about them, just like he’s never told about his adventures with W.I.C.K.E.D. He’s never even revealed his fake name to Scott, his best friend, not because he doesn’t trust the people around him, his real family… but because it’s too hard to explain. And the last thing he wants is to do it alone.

He still remembers the day he came back, confused and scared about what he could have found. Millions of doubts had filled his brain, like “What if they didn’t want me anymore?” or “What if they didn’t recognize me?”. He’d gone to the police station with the intention of checking the list of the lost people in the last ten years, but when he’d got there he’d met a man –his father- who’d recognized him immediately.

It’s taken some time for Thomas to get used to his name, Stiles, same as for his memories to come back, but now he can safely say that he’s managed to take his life back...more or less. Since Scott’s become a werewolf, the boy has been finding himself in another nightmare. Nothing like the Maze or the Scorch, but it’s not all nice and pretty. Especially since the moment  he, Allison and Scott died for a couple of hours and came back: the nightmares have started then.

How much he would love to see that grin again and know that not everything is lost...

"Stiles?" his dad calls him from the other side of the door, his voice full of concern. He must have been deep in thoughts for a while.

"I’m fine," he answers, quickly wiping his face with a towel before exiting the bathroom. He notices then that it’s almost dawn and that soon he will have to go to school to face Scott, Lydia, Allison and Isaac, trying to act like nothing happened.

"You sure you want to go?"

"Yes, dad. I’m fine," he says again. "It was just a nightmare" he forces a weak smile out, heading to his bedroom to pack his things for school. He picks some books from the floor, where they’ve been laying since the evening before, and starts to put them into his backpack. It’s just when he tries to read the cover of one of them, that he realizes something’s wrong: it’s like he’s suddenly become dyslexic, the words are all scattered and illegible, as if they’re written in another language. His heart starts bumping hard in his chest at the thought that maybe he’s still asleep, trapped in a dream like the other nights. He has to literally scream himself awake to get out of them, usually.

"Call me if you need me, okay?" his dad speaks again bringing him back to reality. He lifts his head to nod, not trusting his voice, and when he looks back to the book everything’s back to normal. The title is perfectly legible, now.

A sigh of relief leaves his lips as he puts the last things into the backpack.  

 

* * *

 

He parks his car in front of Beacon Hills High School as usual, preparing himself for an intense day in hell. Getting used to school’s been tremendous: at the beginning he couldn’t sit still, always messed up and never studied. He’d even reached the point where he thought running from Grievers was more fun; not that he was dying to go back to the Maze, no. Never. A normal life was all he’d ever dreamed of, but no one had warned him that school was that boring.

He’s just complaining about it, when his attention is drawn to an unusual scene: his best friend’s nervously running towards him, glancing at his own shadow behind him every now and then, as if he’s trying to escape from it.  

Stiles quickly approaches him and puts an hand on his shoulder to stop him: "Hey, hey! Are you alright?" he frowns when the boy jolts at the contact and sees his terrified expression. Something clicks in his mind. "You don’t look alright, Scott."

"I’m okay…"

"No, you’re not. It’s happening to you too. You’re seeing things, aren’t you?"

The Alpha’s eyes widen: "How do you know?"

"Because it’s happening to all the three of you." Lydia appears just in time behind Stiles, alongside Allison who looks like she’s just seen some kind of ghost. His suspicions are not totally wrong, then, the events of a couple of weeks ago have triggered something in their minds. The darkness, as Deaton called it.

Stiles doesn’t exactly want to know what that means.

While the four of them head for the entrance of the school, Allison tells them about her vision and about her aunt Kate, a psychopath who died the year before because of Peter Hale, another werewolf. She was, just like Allison, a huntress.

"Well well, look who’s no longer the crazy one." comments the girl with strawberry blond hair walking ahead of them.

"We’re not crazy!" Allison replies.

Lydia turns to them with a smirk, probably trying to put some sarcasm in all that situation: "Hallucinating? Sleep paralysis? Yeah, you guys are fine."

The three of them look at each other before Scott finally speaks: "Well we did die and come back to life," he defends himself. "It’s got to have his side effects, right?"  

The bell rings signaling the beginning of the first period, that Stiles obviously doesn’t die to attend, not under these circumstances. "Keep an eye on each other," he says to the girls. "And Lydia. Stop enjoying it so much." He gets past her to go to class, happily ignoring her attempts to be a smartass, sitting then at an empty desk. Scott takes his seat just behind him.

As soon as they’re all settled, the teacher, who must be new and has been writing on the blackboard for the last couple of minutes, starts introducing himself: "Morning everyone, my name is Mr. Yukimura and I’ll be your history teacher for the rest of the year. My family and I moved here three weeks ago, and I’m sure by now you all know my daughter, Kira.  Or you might not since she never actually mentioned anyone from school…"

A noise coming from the back of the class catches everyone’s attention: a brunette girl has just hit the desk with her head and is visibly trying to hide from them.

"And we also have four new students too" the man continues. "Could you stand up, please?"

The group sat at the front row gets up from their tables to stand beside Mr. Yukimura, so all the class can see their faces.  Stiles’ heart does a double jump when he realizes who they are, and he almost falls from his chair. "Welcome Teresa Agnes, Minho Lee, Gally… um, I can’t read your surname, and Newt Isaacs."

Everything stops.

The brunet’s eyes meet the blond’s and stay right there, as if everything around them doesn’t exist anymore. As if it’s just the two of them and the radiant smile on Newt’s face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi eveyone!  
> I hope you enjoyed the chapter, more to come soon.  
> Let me know what you think about it!


	3. What the bloody hell is a Stiles?

Newt's POV

 

If he could, Newt would run towards the boy and hug him, not giving a bloody shuck about the fact that he’s in a class full of students, and about what they could say. Fortunately he still has a bit of good sense, so he just looks at him, with his heart pounding in his chest, until the teacher tells them to get back to their seats. At that moment he regrets sitting in the front row, or rather he feels a killer instinct towards his friends for making him do so.

"There’s a low possibility that Thomas will be in our first class," Minho had said, and everyone had agreed. But no, Tommy's right there, his brown hair longer and messier than he remembers it, his doe eyes brighter than they already were… but he seems different, in a way. Sure, all of them are: an experience like theirs leaves a mark, even if you manage to find your place in the world and happiness later. But for Thomas, it’s like he’s still in that limbo between the two situations.

He turns to look at him one more time meeting again his gaze. Damn it, he could stay like this forever, but he forces himself to break the contact and pay attention to the lecture. He can still talk to him after that.

If he didn’t have all his memories, he would find history a bit interesting; instead he finds himself complaining about having to attend school. He doesn’t even remember whose idea was it to register for Beacon Hills High School, they’ve probably decided it without even talking about it first. After all it was the best way to find Thomas.

When the bell finally rings, Newt quickly puts his things into his backpack and gets up with the intention of approaching the guy, who’s already looking back.

"Well, what are you doing here? Go get him" he hears Gally say behind him.

He’s finally moving when another brunet boy, with a slightly crooked jaw –Newt notices- and probably Hispanic origins, starts talking to Thomas. He doesn’t know what he was expecting, that he didn’t have friends? That he was completely alone? Nah… Tommy can be very friendly when he wants to. Then why does he feel disappointed?

"Stiles, are you even listening?" the Hispanic says snapping his fingers in front of his face, and those doe eyes that have been stuck in his until then, move to… "Sorry, Scott. What was that?"

Scott. Like a dog’s name.    

Newt can’t help but sneering as he starts to walk towards them, but before he can reach them, _Scott_ takes Thomas’ arm and pulls him outside the class. The latter turns one last time to give him an apologetic look, before following his friend.

"Really?" Minho snaps with a tone of voice that oozes sarcasm. "You let him leave like this?"

Newt rolls his eyes getting past him to get out. "Slim it, Min."

"You think he’s the best friend he talked me about?" Teresa asks.

"Shh, T. Don’t you see how jealous he is? You’re gonna make it worse" the boy replies making the others giggle, except Newt who on the other hand isn’t amused at all.

"What part of “Slim it” don’t you understand?"

"Come on, Newtie, I’m just kidding!"

"I know" he shoves him playfully. "And don’t call me Newtie."

"Okay, _Newtie_."

He shakes his head in exasperation. He loves his best friends, really, during these two years spent together as a family they’ve grown closer than they already were, especially since their memories came back. Even so, when it comes to Thomas, Newt can never shut them up. Well, not that it’s a secret that he’s got a crush on him, it’s pretty obvious actually, but he can't stand them when they keep bringing that up.

"There he is again." Gally whispers with a smirk, lifting his eyebrows in the blond’s direction, who follows his nod just in time to see the brunet messing with his locker’s lock. It’s like he’s having some hard time opening it. 

Once again, the boy starts approaching, but he has to stop because he sees Tommy straightening up and looking around them, before lowering his friends’ head and pulling him towards an empty class.

Newt frowns at that and fights with the intention of going there to check what’s happening, but then decides against it. The moment will come, hopefully.

The others are shaking their heads. He happily ignores them.

* * *

They never run into him again for the rest of the day, and when they get home that evening Newt crashes onto his bed, covering his face with the pillow. They’ve rented a small house after a week during which they’ve stayed in an hotel, thinking that probably, now that they’re back with Thomas, they won't have to move away anymore. After all he’s got a family here, they don’t. They've travelled all around America without finding anyone of their parents, it’s like they’re vanished. Teresa did her best trying to remember things about their lives, since she’s the one who’d worked with the Creators and managed to get some information off of them, but it didn’t help either. So, once they’d run out of ideas, they’d decided to go to Beacon Hills.  

"Hey, may I come in?" a female voice brings him back to reality. Teresa’s standing beside the door, a gentle smile drawn on her lips. It’s taken some time for Newt to forgive her for all the things she’s done and  not to feel jealous about her anymore, but now she’s like a sister to him. She’d always been with him when he had nightmares, reassuring him, so much that Newt had started trusting her enough to tell her about Denver. Only the two of them and Thomas know, while Minho and Gally still don’t have a clue.

Newt sits back and tells her to get closer and sit beside him.

"You okay?" she asks, and then waits for him to nod before going on: "I’m sorry you haven’t been able to speak to Tom, today."

He shrugs, he still has the whole semester to do that. "No problem, I will try again tomorrow."  

They stay silent for a while, watching the completely empty room: they don’t have enough money to spend in furniture, so they’ve bought the essential only. They hope to find jobs so they can at least pay the rent and everything else.

"What the bloody hell is a Stiles, anyway?" Newt asks after a while, making Teresa giggle.

"It’s not his real name" she explains, because she knows. She always knows. "But it was unpronounceable so he called himself like that and… well, the others followed."  

"I think I’ll keep calling him Tommy, though."

"Like you even need to say that." she smirks, ruffling his hair. Then her voice softens: "Have you decided what you’re gonna say to him?"

Newt frowns: "About what?"

"You know what..."

Of course he knows. He’s just too afraid to talk about it. "I don’t know, T. What if he doesn't feel the same way? It’s been two years."

"It’s worth talking about it nevertheless. It’s not like he’ll start yelling at you, he’s not that kind of guy."

He snorts lowering his gaze. All he wants for the moment is to hug Thomas and hear his voice again, the other things will follow. "I’ll think about it." he says then.

Teresa nods and gives him a peck on his cheek before getting up and reaching the door. "Goodnight, Newt."

"Night, Teresa."

And when she’s gone, he covers again his face with the pillow, falling asleep after a few seconds.

* * *

The next morning he doesn’t see Thomas until economy, during which he sits on his left without having the chance to speak to him, since he’s arrived late. He doesn’t listen to any of the words that come out of the coach’s mouth, too busy watching the brunet writing something on his notebook. He’s immediately noticed that something’s wrong: he’s staring blankly at it, like he doesn’t even realize what he’s doing. What the hell is happening to him?

Suddenly the shrilling and annoying sound of a whistle fills the class. Newt has to cover his ears to protect them.

" _Stilinski!"_

Thomas snaps out of his thoughts and lifts his head. So that’s clearly his surname...

"Yeah, coach?"

"I asked you a question."

"I’m sorry... what was that?"

The man looks at him visibly annoyed by his behaviour: "Oh, it was “Are you paying attention back there, Stilinski?”"

Thomas blinks a few times and rubs the back of his head in a way that, Newt thinks, is kind of cute. "Oh, well, I am now..."

Sarcasm. Since when is Tommy sarcastic?

"Stilinski, stop reminding me why I drink, every day." the coach says, before addressing again the rest of the class, but Newt isn’t listening anymore. His attention is drawn to the short conversation between the boy and Scott: "I’m fine," he hears Thomas say. "I just fell asleep for a sec."

"Dude… you weren’t asleep." there’s serious concern on the Hispanic’s face as he points at the notebook on the brunet’s desk. Newt looks at it trying not to get caught.

There are just two words repeated all over it: “Wake up”

Okay, this situation is starting to get really weird. He notices that the boy’s looking at him only when he meets his gaze, and then responds lifting an eyebrow.

Thomas simply shakes his head, almost faintly, before going back to act like nothing happened. And they still haven’t talked.

When class ends the two friends get out of there speaking in a low voice. Newt heads to the cafeteria to meet the others and have lunch: he absolutely has to tell them what’s just happened. If something is wrong with Tommy, he needs to find out what.

Lost in his thoughts, he doesn’t see the huge boy who’s approached him, shoving him on purpose to the ground. He only hears an “Hey” shouted from not too far away when it’s already too late.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! I hope you enjoyed the chapter :3  
> Since it doesn't make sense to write everything that happens in the season, I'll write some chapters from Newt's POV, not to make the story repetitive and boring.  
> Let me know what you think ^^


	4. I was wondering...

STILES’ POV

 

Sat at a table at the Cafeteria with his friends, Stiles thinks about the last two days. About how much he wants to talk with Newt but something seems to always interfere. He’s sure about one thing, though, that he has to protect him from all the weird things that happen in Beacon Hills, like what’s happening to him, even if it means lying. He can’t risk to lose him again... 

"Okay, so... what happens to a person that has a near-death experience and comes out of it seeing things?" Scott starts speaking catching his attention.

"And is unable to tell what’s real or not?" he adds.

"And is haunted by demonic visions of dead relatives?" Allison ends it.

"They’re all locked up because they’re _insane._ " Isaac answers with his usual level of sarcasm that Stiles sometimes can’t stand.

"Ah-Ah. Could you at least try to be helpful? Please?" he replies glaring at him, just to get a smirk in response: "For half my childhood I was locked in a freezer. So, being helpful is kind of new thing to me."

Beside him, Scott hits the table with his head and even Lydia and Allison snort.

"Hey, dude, are you still milking that?" Stiles asks then, visibly annoyed.

"Yeah, maybe I’m still milking that."

"Hi," a voice stops their arguing and a girl, who Stiles feels like he knows but can’t remember where he’s seen her, approaches them: "Sorry, I couldn’t help overhearing what you guys were talking about."   

They all look at each other nervously, as if to say: “How much exactly have you heard?”.

"And I think I actually might know what you’re talking about" she continues, seeing they’re uncomfortable. "There’s a Tibetan word for that. It’s called “Bardo”. It literally means in-between state. The state between life and death."

"And what do they call you?" Lydia asks, gently, but Stiles knows her enough to know that she’s becoming curious.

With everyone’s surprise, even the girl’s, Scott is the one who answers: "Kira," and seeing the others staring at him, he quickly explains. "She’s in our history class."

Oh, the teacher’s daughter! Of course.

"So are you talking Bardo in Tibetan Buddhism or Indian?" Lydia asks again. Yep. Definitely curious.

Kira sits next to Stiles, with a little bit more confidence: "Both, I guess. But all that stuff you guys were just saying? All that happens in Bardo." she keeps going. " There are different progressive states where you can have hallucinations. Some you see, some you just hear. And you can be visited by peaceful and wrathful deities."

"Wrathful deities?" Isaac asks. "What are those?"

"Demons" she answers as if it's the most obvious thing in the world, with a smile.

Stiles seriously starts worrying at that: "Demons!" he exclaims, hiding the anxiety that’s devouring him with a bit of sarcasm. "Why not?"

"Hold on, if there are different progressive states, then what’s the last one?" everyone turn to Allison.

Kira shrugs. "Death. You die."

Oh, that’s absolutely fantastic. Stiles opens his mouth to reply, without hiding his panic anymore, but then something catches his attention behind the girl’s back. Newt’s walking towards one of the tables when a guy shoves him to the ground on purpose.

He sees red. Before he know what he's doing he’s standing up and running towards them: "Hey!" He yells at the bully, pushing him away from the blond as soon as he reaches him. "What the fuck are you doing? Pick on someone of your own size!"

He has no idea who he is, but he’s touched Newt and that’s enough.

"None of your business." the boy grunts getting dangerously close.

"Yes it is!" He pushes him again. He knows that his friends have reached them and he hopes that they’re helping Newt. "Now get out of my face"

"Otherwise?"

"I’ll kick your ass until it hurts you so much you can’t even move. What does that sound like? Believe me, you don’t want to see me angry." He’s fuming. How dares he?

It’s enough. They boy turns around and quickly moves away. Behind him, he hears Lydia making sure the blond is okay. He waits until the bully’s out of his sight to turn and, making his way through the others, reaches Newt placing his hands on his cheeks. "You okay? Did he hurt you? I’m gonna kill him." he starts babbling checking if he has something broken, hugging him tight then. He hears the other’s chest trembling and his beautiful laugh echoing in his ears. God, he missed it…

"Bloody hell, Tommy. I’m fine, don’t worry."

"Newt! Thomas!"

"Tom!"

"What the shuck happened?!"

Stiles breaks the hug and turns to Teresa, Minho and Gally with a radiant smile. She runs toward him jumping into his arms, then he greets the other two too with pats on thei backs.

"What happened" Minho asks again. "Are you okay, Newt?"

The blond nods, smiling as if he’s already forgotten everything. "Tommy has done the hero again. Bloody glad to see he’s not changed at all." they all burst into laughter.

"I can’t believe you’re actually here, guys…" he says then, glancing at all of them.

Newt takes his hand. "Well, I promised. Remember?"

"The boy never stopped talking about you."

 _"Minho, slim it._ "

"Really?" Stiles asks softly, sincerely stunned, blushing slightly. Newt thought about him... He kept his promise and came. He realizes just now how much he needs his presence.

"Can somebody tell me what’s going on?"

"Why is Stiles talking to the newbies?"

"Who the hell is Tommy?"

"I think Thomas is Stiles."

"Stiles is Thomas?!"

The boy suddenly remembers his friends are there too, and they’re watching the scene with lost expressions. It’s like that thing is confusing them more than supernatural stuff like werewolves, kanimas, banshees, Bardo and all of that do. "Um, Newt, Teresa, Minho, Gally," he rubs the back of his head with his hand in embarrassment. "These are Scott, Lydia, Allison and Isaac. Guys, they’re my old friends… from, well, my previous life I guess."

The girl with strawberry blond hair reaches out a hand to squeeze theirs, and for once Stiles is grateful to her friendly nature.

"You never told us about them…" Scott seems offended. "Not even that your name was Thomas."

"I never had the chance to" he defends himself, lowering his gaze. He suddenly feels an arm on his shoulders and somebody ruffles his hair: "Don’t get mad with Tom-boy" Minho. Of course. "It’s kind of a long story, and a bit painful to remember. We don’t really talk about it...."

"Has this something to do with Crazy Eyebrows’ face?"  

" _Isaac!_ " he starts moving his fist towards him, but then he remembers that, if he punches him, he’ll probably break his own hand. He glances at Gally apologetically, seeing that he’s frowning. He realizes he’s changed too since the last time he’s seen him, because he doesn’t react bad at all. "I still feel sorry about that, you know?" he points at him with a nod.

"No problem, shank. I kind of deserved it."

"I’m also sorry I left you…" he tells the others, especially Newt. "I shouldn’t have done that."

"We asked you do do that" Teresa answers with a shrug.

Stiles bites his lips without replying, even if he’s got a lot of arguments to do so. It just doesn’t seem the right moment, and he only wants to stay with his friends for now.

Unfortunately the bell decides to ring right at that moment and the others start to walk away after saying goodbye: "Stiles!" Scott calls him. "Don’t forget we have to go to the clinic to talk to Deaton, later."

He lifts his thumbs in response, turning then to face again the Gladers and pulling out of his backpack a notebook, from which he rips out a piece of paper. He then takes a pen and writes his number on it, giving it to Teresa. "I don’t know at what time I’ll be home, but call me, text me, whatever. I’ll let you know when I’m free so you can come over and tell me everything." He gives a peck on Teresa’s cheek, a quick hug to Newt and waves at the other two, before running to his next class.

* * *

Stiles crashes on the couch when he gets home with his father. It’s been an awful afternoon: first, he’s found out he’s got some kind of ajar door inside his mind that he has to close, and second he and Scott have helped his father with one of his cases. The best thing of the whole day is that he’s finally been able to speak to his friends, hear their voices again, feel like the good old Thomas again. Everything was simpler  back then when, even if the situation was fucked up, there was one goal to reach. It never happened that they ran out of ideas, without knowing what to do next, like what’s happening with him right now.

He wonders if all of this would have happened if he’d decided to stick with them, two years before.

He pulls out his phone from his pocket to check it: he has two missed calls and a text from an unknown number. It’s probably them, so he opens the chat.

_Hey, Tommy. It’s Newt._

He finds himself smiling like an idiot after a few minutes of staring at the phone, he still can’t believe they’re actually there.

_Hey, Newt ;) If you have nothing to do now, you can come._

He adds his address and sends. He doesn’t have to wait too long for the answer.

_‘Coming!_

He sighs, resting his head on the back of the couch. He hasn’t felt like this for… for ages. Spending time with the Pack is great, they’re not his best friends for nothing, but it’s different with the Gladers. They’re his family, and it feels good to have them finally back.

It’s been only half an hour when someone knocks on the door.

"I’ll take it!" he shouts to his father, getting up and almost stumbling in his own feet whilst he runs to open it. There’s just Newt standing at the front porch: "Hey, where are the others?"

"Home, finishing to settle in. They said they’ll come another time." The blond shrugs and Stiles mimics him, telling him to come in.   

After that, he brings him upstairs to his bedroom. A whistle of approval leaves Newt’s lips as soon as the light are switched on, and he approaches the wall full of papers Stiles has completely forgotten about. He curses himself mentally for not thinking about it.

"Sleep paralysis… Bardo... Nemeton... what do they mean?" Newt asks pointing at them. Oh, if he only knew.

"Long story" the brunet liquidates him sitting on his bed and patting the spot next to his. "Tell me about you guys."

The blond snorts, running his fingers through his hair: "There’s not that much to tell. We’ve been living on the road for two years. We haven’t even found what we were looking for… I mean, my parents are probably in England and I don’t feel like leaving you. We don’t know where Minho’s family is and Gally doesn’t even want to find his, so…

We don’t have news from Aris, Sonya and Harriet…" he lifts his gaze to look at him, biting his lip, as if he’s searching for the right words to say it. "And neither from Brenda and Jorge. They left without us and we’ve never seen them again, but I bet they’re doing fine. Those two are tough shanks."

Stiles nods, he’s been expecting something like this. "I’m sorry it was all useless…"

"It’s better like this, Tommy. If it had gone differently, I probably wouldn’t be here."

The thought sends shiver all around his body. He quickly sends it away.

"I missed you, you know?" he whispers without knowing, making the other grin.

"I missed you too, Tommy."

They stay like this for a while, just staring at each other. And to think that all of this would have never been possible if, back in Denver, he’d made a different choice. He still doesn’t forgive himself.

"Hey, so…" Newt speaks again, going back to biting his lip. "I was wondering..."

The door opens and Scott suddenly enters the room, only to froze with his mouth open: "Oh. Oh, shoot. Had to figure you were with him, your dad just asked me who came in before me."

"What’s going on?" Stiles asks, seeing all the confidence fade in his best friend’s eyes.

"Well, I wanted to go find Malia, but…" he nods towards Newt’s direction.

"Oh, don’t worry about me, I have to go anyway." Despite his words, the blond seems slightly annoyed. "See you at school?"

"Sure."

"Goodnight, Tommy." he smiles, getting then out of the room and heading downstairs. The brunet goes with him to close the front door, and when he goes back to his room, he lifts an eyebrow: "You said you wanted to find Malia’s body? Right now?" he shrugs without waiting for the boy’s answer and grabs his jacket. "Let’s go."

They head for the woods that, normally, would scare Stiles to death if he wasn’t used to it. They check the car of the incident once they find it, seeing the mark of a werewolf’s claws on it and a doll that gives them both a minor heart attack. It’s just then that they hear a growl coming from not too far away, among the trees. 

"Tell me you see that too." Scott murmurs, staring at the two gleaming blue eyes in the darkness. And a moment later, he’s gone.

"Wait, Scott. _Wait!_ " Stiles shouts at him, without success. A sound of exasperation leaves his mouth as he turns to go back studying the crime scene.

Though he stops seeing a familiar boy standing a few feet away from him, come of out nowhere. "What the bloody hell was that?"

He could recognize that British accent everywhere.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone!  
> I hope you enjoyed the chapter even if I don't really like it...  
> So, Newt and Tommy finally spoke and it's obvious that something is going on between the two of them.  
> Let me know what you think!  
> And thank you all for your support ^^


	5. We're all in this together

Newt’s POV

 

They really thought he would have gone home like that? Who with a bit of wisdom, after knowing two eighteen boys were about to go out _in the middle of the night_ to find someone, would have left? If such people exist, Newt isn’t like them. No way. Especially since he’s noticed the things that are happening to Thomas. So, taking advantage of the fact that his friend didn’t know which was his car, he’d hid inside it until he had seen them pass. He’d followed them to the woods and then walked silently behind them, making sure they wouldn’t notice. The things he’d heard coming out of their mouths had terribly worried him. For a second he’d even thought Thomas had completely lost his mind after W.I.C.K.E.D.

Who would believe in werewolves, right?

He has to change his mind, now that he’s close enough to see the marks left by the claws on the car, and they really can’t belong to a simple animal. "What the bloody hell was that?" He asks outloud, blowing off his cover. After all Thomas has already seen him, and his expression, that a while ago was of exasperation, turns to pure horror.

"Newt?" It’s like he’s glued to the ground. "What are you doing here?"

The blond snorts approaching the car to examine it: "I’m not bloody dumb, Tommy. I know something’s wrong, and I want to find out what."

"It’s not that simple…" the brunet replies, finally finding the strength to move.

"Since when it is?" he lifts an eyebrow in response. He  thinks he can drop that argument like this? "You think I can’t understand? I’ve already had my good dose of weird ad unbelievable stuff in my life, one more can’t hurt me."

Thomas shakes his head, passing him to check the surroundings. "That’s exactly why I want you to stay out of this…" he hears him murmur. He’s about to complain when the boy suddenly stops again, kneeling to watch a little cove, perfect for a coyote den. "I have to find Scott" he says before rushing in the Hispanic direction.

Of course Newt follows him, he can’t let him leave like this and have it his way: he needs answers and, above all, he doesn’t know how to get back to the cars. He’s lucky he can still run, despite his leg never healed completely. He’d consulted a few doctors and they all said he will have that limp for the rest of his life, because it was to late to do something. Not that he cares, that thing has become part of his life by now, like a battle scar… aside from a reminder of his moment of weakness, back in the Maze.

He realizes that Thomas has stopped only when he bumps into him.

"I think I found something" he’s saying to Scott, who seems breathless.

"So did I" then he sees Newt and frowns. "What the hell is he doing here?"

"He followed us."

"What?!"

"And I think he overheard us too."  

The werewolf’s gaze moves back a little too quickly to the blond, who on the other hand is starting to feel sorry about what he’s done. But then again, it was the only way to get what he wanted. "You can’t tell anyone, okay?" he’s expected him to yell, but instead there’s no judgment in Scott’s voice, like he kind of knows what is going on inside his head. He feels a grip in his chest as he forces himself to answer: "I can’t…"

"What do you mean, “you can’t”?" Thomas asks, his tone of voice a little too sharp hurts him, but angers him nonetheless.  

"You should know that, Tommy" he replies looking at him. "Or you forgot our rules? No secrets between us, if someone knows something he has to tell the others, in this case Teresa, Minho and Gally."

The brunet’s expression softens and said boy approaches him to place his hands on his shoulders, with a sad smile: "I didn’t forget, but it’s dangerous…"

"When will you get it, Tommy?" he interrupts him. "After all we’ve been through, you still can’t get into your bloody head that we’re all in this _together_? We came back to you so we could be that close group we used to be two years ago. You’re our leader and we’re ready to follow you everywhere, good times or bad." he stares stubbornly at him, forgetting that Scott is a few feet away and is watching them as if they’re talking in another language. "That’s how it works. It’s always been like this and will always be. But you have to trust us… for once, stop acting like a hero trying to save everyone and let your friends help you."

Thomas turns to his friend, probably to ask for permission. It must be serious stuff if he can’t decide on his own like he always does… or maybe Scott is the leader of the gang. Anyway, when the boy nods, the blond lets out a sigh of relief he didn’t know he was holding.

"Tomorrow we’ll gather everyone to explain the situation from the beginning, but we need to go now. Stiles, you said you found something?"

And so they go back to the cave near the place of the car crash to examine it. Newt finally gets why it’s so important when he sees the clothes and the teddy bear.

"It’s a coyote den" Thomas explains.

"Werecoyote…" confirms Scott.

"Woah, wait. Werecoyote?" he asks. That werewolf thing is already confusing per se, not to mention the coyotes! The others ignore him and keep talking: "You see this?" Thomas shows them the blue jacket. "This is Malia’s. Remember? It’s the same one she’s wearing in that photo."

"We shouldn’t be in here."

"Why not?"

 "She’s not going to come back here now. We just invaded her home, our scent’s going to be everywhere." says Scott, turning to get out.

"If she’s not going to come back here… where is she going to?" with everyone’s surprise, his too, Newt is the one who asks it. If he has to help, better start immediately. Even if knows half the story.

"I don’t know..."

The brunet rubs his chin with his fingers, looking around: "Well, can you track her now? You think you got her scent?"

Now, Newt doesn’t want to laugh about it, but he can’t help thinking the name Scott is perfect for a Werewolf. And the way they talk about it, makes him smile a bit.     

"Maybe. But I’m better at this when I’m a full wolf, and I’m still worried that if I do it, I won’t be able to turn back."

Thomas sighs. "The door’s still open…"

The blond frowns at those words, moving his gaze from one boy to the other. He hasn’t fully get the last part, but somehow he knows that it has something to do with his friend’s strange behavior. Sleep paralysis, as it’s written on the papers on the wall. "So Tommy isn’t the only one who has problems, you too?"

Scott raises his eyebrows, sincerely impressed. It must be a good thing, right? "Your friend is smart, are the others like him?" he asks the brunet with a grin.

Yep. Good sign. Newt’s still kind of jealous about the fact that he got to stay by Tommy’s side when he didn’t , but maybe the boy isn’t that bad after all. "So what do we do?"

"If I can’t get to Derek, we’re gonna have to find someone else…" the Hispanic says, turning to the brunet. "This is basically a crime scene, right? I think it might be a little out of my boss’s league."

"And more in my dad’s."

So… Thomas’ dad is the sheriff. He arrives ten minutes after they’ve called him alongside a few other agents and, like them, examines the place. "You’re sure it was her?" he asks them as soon as he’s done.

Scott nods: "I looked her right in her eyes. And they glowed just like mine."

"It makes sense" confirms Thomas.

Newt stays silent during the whole conversation, not knowing how to participate. It hurts to see his best friend interact with his father and Scott with so much confidence, because it can be seen from miles away that he is in his territory, that he knows everything and he’s able to explain it. He realizes that it’s the first time the two of them are not on the same page, that Tommy is slowly distancing himself from his previous life to embrace the new one. He’s losing him…

"Who is he?" the sheriff suddenly asks looking right at him, becoming aware of his presence.

The blond feels slightly embarrassed: "Um, Newt, sir. An old friend of Tom—I mean, Stiles." He will never get used to calling him that, not even in a million years, he knows it. It’s too weird.

His friend pulls him closer putting an arm on his shoulders, and then pulls out his amazing grin to reassure him: "He’s one of my fellas, they just got here"

"Oh…" the man frowns. "You never told me about them."

Thomas’ face darkens and Newt understands that he must feel sorry about it, but he gets it. Telling the whole story is painful for all of them, he would never do that either.

"And he knows about you-know-what too?"

"We didn’t plan it, but yes."

"Ah" he nods, still staring at him. "Well, welcome to Beacon Hills."

"Anyway, dad… think about it." his friend continues. "They’re driving, Malia starts to change, she goes out of control, the mom crashes and everyone dies."

"Except for Malia." adds Scott.

"She blames herself, all right, goes off running into the woods and eventually becomes trapped inside the body of a coyote."

"That makes sense," the sheriff comments, nodding for a second before his expression turns to something between anger and exasperation. "In a Chinese folktale!" Newt can’t stop a giggle at that. He’s got a point! "Boys this is _insane_! I need this kept quiet. The three of you, not a word. I don’t want anyone hearing about this, especially not Mr. Tate. Scott? Scott!" the man scolds the boys who’s watching something behind them.

"Sorry, what were you saying?"

But the sheriff doesn’t answer. He’s staring at a car which has just been parked next to the others, and two men getting out of it.  "Oh, hell… Mr. Tate."

"It’s hers..." the older one grabs Malia’s blue jacket from Thomas’ father’s hands, while the other, who looks a lot like Scott, is glaring at the three of them. "Dad…" Scott says in fact.

"I’ll talk to you in a minute. I wouldn’t mind hearing how your mom’s okay with you running around in the woods this late."

And with that, he goes off with the sheriff.

Newt has the feeling that things are not going to end good for Thomas and Scott.

* * *

After yesterday’s lecture, they went back to their houses. Newt wasn't surprised to find the others fast asleep. The next morning they find Scott and Thomas at the history class talking to a raven girl, Allison if his memory serves. They’re so absorbed in the conversation that he figures they’re discussing about Malia.

When the bell rings the girl leaves and Thomas sits at his left, grinning.

"Hey, shanks" the brunet whispers at the group after waving at them. "I’ll meet you guys at the entrance after school. My friend and I have to talk to you" he nods towards Newt for him to deal with it, and he smiles in response. Is it normal to feel excited and nervous at the same time about that story? He missed the adventure, even if the last two years haven’t been exactly easy.

Mr. Yukimura starts talking and the class becomes quiet. They have to read a passage from some book.  

"Mr Stilinski, how about you?" the brunet lifts his head hearing his surname, shifting nervously in his spot. "Oh, maybe… maybe someone else could?"

Newt frowns. Since when does Thomas back out? It’s not like he’s shy…

"Everyone participate in my class, Mr. Stilinski."

The blond watches as his friend hesitantly gets up from his chair, reaching the bookstand. He watches as his hands grab it and his knuckles become white, and his forehead fills with sweat at the evident attempt to read. The brunet’s eyes scan the class searching for his and probably Scott’s too. Both of them immediately get up from their spots.

"Stiles?" the Hispanic calls him. "You okay?"

The brunet glances at Newt, who approaches him to sustain him seeing the boy like that. Scott does the same.

"We’re taking him to the nurse’s office" says the blond to the teacher. He looks at his friends, frozen in shock at their spots with wide eyes, before going out with Thomas.

At the bathroom, the boy immediately grabs the sink and watches himself in the mirror.

"Hey, Stiles. Is this a panic attack?" Scott asks, his voice filled with concern.

Newt has no idea what’s going on, why his friends is acting like this making him feel sick too. He places an hand on his back and takes one of his.

"It’s a dream… it’s a dream… this is just a dream." he keeps saying.

"This is not a dream. Tommy, look at me, it’s not a dream. You’re here, _with me,_ with us." he glances at Scott for help.

"Okay, what do you do? I mean, how do you tell if you’re dreaming or not?" he asks after a while.

"You count your fingers, you have extra fingers in dreams…"

Newt takes a step back to let him see him, and lifts one finger: "How many do I have? Count with me, Tommy. One"  he shakes his shoulder to make him look up and, as soon as he does, they count together to ten. Only then his breath starts to slow down, and he sits on the floor with his back against the wall. Newt can’t stop himself from hugging him, caressing his hair to calm him down.

"What the hell is happening to me?" the brunet whispers, his trembling voice muffled by the blond’s shirt.

Scott, who’s been watching the scene in silence until now, kneels next to them: "We’ll figure it out. You’re going to be fine"

"Am I?" that sudden change of attitude scares Newt to death. Back to the Trials, Tommy never lost hope, he was always the one who came up with a plan B, who told them to keep going. And when he did seem a little hopeless, the blond always felt like it was his job to remind him who he was. Their leader. "Are you?" the brunet keeps talking. "Scott you can’t transform. Allison is haunted by her dead aunt. And I’m straight up losing my mind…"

Newt pulls back, but without removing the arm from his shoulders. He doesn’t get it. Not yet. But he needs to do something.

"We can’t do this, Scott. We can’t save Malia. We can’t save anyone…"

"But we can try" he intervenes, moving his eyes between the two of them. "Remember when Alby and Minho were about to get stuck in the Maze and you ran inside an instant before the door closed? All of us thought that there was no hope, that they would never make it through the night. But you didn’t want to leave them anyway, even if there was a one percent possibility to survive. You didn’t give up" he reaches out to wipe a tear from his cheek, smiling softly. "Don’t do that now."

Scott is nodding. "Newt’s right" and this probably convinces the brunet, who keeps looking at him while he asks, searching the right words: "We’ll do this together, right?"

The blond’s smile widens at that. "Together."  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so in love with this chapter.  
> I don't know why. Maybe it's just Klunk. But I like it.  
> Let me know what you think about it!


	6. You like him

Newt's POV

 

The bell rings after what feels like an eternity. Thomas has finally calmed down and dried the sweat from his face, under Newt’s and Scott’s careful watch. On the other hand the blond is still shocked by seeing his best friend like that, so vulnerable, and decides that he wants to help him go back to being the fearless and determined Runner he once was, without frequents panic attacks.

He still doesn’t know a lot about the whole situation, but he knows that that, plus the things the boy had to go through because of W.I.C.K.E.D. have devastated him, maybe more than they did with Newt.

"How are you feeling?" he asks, his eyebrows furrowed in concern. Thomas’ eyes are red and puffy; it’s so evident that he hasn’t slept a wink in the last few days. How did he not notice that before?  

The brunet cracks a soft smile, running his fingers through his hair. "Better. But don’t stress to much about me, Newt, or you’ll get wrinkles."

He chuckles at that, slightly shaking his head, amused by his attitude: despite everything he likes the new Thomas, he likes the way he jokes, those dimples that appear on his cheeks every time he smiles, in the few short moments when he’s fine; he likes the way he takes things lightly trying not to make a big deal out of them and making them seem less serious than they really are. "Wrinkles are the least of my problems, Tommy." he states watching him. At the moment it seems like everything’s back to the years before the Maze, when they knew what their future was but didn’t believe it would have messed up their lives so badly,  when they were all free to be what they were: kids.

He wonders if Thomas remembers…

"Scott?" the brunet’s attention moves to the Hispanic, who’s quickly gotten up and now stands still beside the door, listening to something. And suddenly rushes outside without a word.

"Scott!" Thomas shouts at him, letting then out a sound of exasperation. "That shank is unbelievable. C’mon" he glances at Newt, approaching to take his hand, maybe without even thinking. The blond feels himself going on fire and knows he’s blushed, but he’s grateful to the fact that the boy’s already started walking and is no longer looking at him: they’ve always been this touchy, so why is it that different now? Maybe it’s because of… of Denver. With a sigh, he stares at their fingers intertwined in an almost natural way, fitting perfectly together as if they’re made for that. They really need to talk sooner or later, or Newt might explode. A tremendous noise makes them both jump: it comes from the boys' locker room. The two of them exchange a confused gaze, Newt lifts both of his eyebrows, and then they start running because they’ve heard that noise again.

They find Scott in the locker room with a girl whose name Newt doesn’t remember, but he has the feeling he’s seen her in class. Oh yeah! Mr Yukimura’s daughter. What is she doing here, all breathless and scared to death?

"The coyote" Scott tells them as soon as he sees them, nodding his head to let them understand what he means. And then Newt does. "It was here" he glances at their hands and frowns, but Newt swears he’s seen the glimpse of a smile on his mouth.

"I’m gonna call my dad, wait here" at the same time as Thomas says that, the grip loosens and the warmth in his hand suddenly disappears, as if someone’s just poured cold water on it. He tries not to look disappointed, but from the look Scott gives him, he realizes his face must have a weird expression drawn on it, and hopes the brunet hasn’t seen it. The boy walks away from them typing his dad’s number on his phone, and his voice echoes through the hallway as soon as he answers.

Newt turns back, without a reason. Well, there is one actually: he’s not really confident with Scott yet, and knows that if he tries to start a conversation with his best friend’s best friend, they’ll end up talking about Thomas, and about what they’ve gone through together… and the blond would realize how much he’s missed in the last two years, and get jealous and embarrassed. So yeah, he quickly exits the room with the intention of reaching his friend.

"Newt, wait!"

Of course his wishes don’t come true, when have things ever gone the way he wanted them to go?

Spoiler: never.

The Hispanic reaches him without the slightest effort, putting an hand on his shoulder to stop him. There’s a gentle smile on his face.  

His first intention is to snort and get him out of his way, but then he changes his mind, because he doesn’t want to defy the boy after all, especially not a werewolf with claws and fangs. "What do you want?" even if he can’t prevent himself from sounding annoyed.

"You like him" he states in low voice, briefly turning his head towards Thomas, who’s still talking on the phone. Newt has to pretend to be horrified: "Excuse me?"

"Dude" the other gives him a knowing look. "I’ve seen how you look at him, how _he_ looks at you. How you both long for some kind of contact even If there’s no need of it, the way you worry about him. Since he’s come back, I’ve never seen Stiles so happy, even under these circumstances. And I can assure you that he never gives the smile he gives you to anyone."

Newt narrows his eyes, he can’t believe this: "How does he look at me?"

"Like you’re some kind of angel."

The blond’s eyes widen and move towards the boy in the distance, dwelling on his hands while he gestures and tries to explain what happened. He then shakes his head, with a sigh. "It’s bloody complicated," he blurts out, unconsciously confirming Scott’s words, whose smile widens even more. "Don’t look at me like that. Look, something happened and we’ve never had the chance to talk about it, so I don’t know where we are or if… if he still feels the same."

"Why don’t you talk with him then?" the Hispanic asks, earning a glare from the blond.

"Well, I was about to do that yesterday, but you came in and ruined everything."

Scott opens his mouth to form an O and Newt sees him making himself smaller and smaller for the guilt, which gives him some kind of satisfaction. In the meantime Thomas is gone, probably to go and meet the sheriff. The blond gets past the Hispanic to look for him, finding him after ten minutes in the main hallway talking nervously to the man. Scott is already there and now they’re both watching the two in the distance, until the brunet turns to look at them. Newt doesn’t understand what happens next, he only knows that he’s seen the werewolf nod without a reason, or maybe he’s just the only one who can’t find one.

Soon they find themselves in the locker room, again, to talk about the events, but the blond doesn’t pay attention to anything that’s said or happens, too busy trying to gain some courage to talk to Thomas.

"Hey" his voice snaps him out of his thoughts. Said boy’s watching him with a frown, probably worrying about his absorbed expression: "You okay?"

He nods, cracking a slight smile and opens his mouth to say something, but then closes it again. He repeats that gesture a couple of times, while the other lifts an eyebrow waiting for him to talk, and he finally does: "Tommy, we need to talk."

"You mean, now?"

"Yes, now."

The brunet bites his lip and looks around them, as if he’s trying to find a way to escape: "Okay, sounds good to me" he says. "But can we do it later? I want to gather everyone and tell you what’s happening."

Newt can’t help glancing at Scott, who’s already looking at them, and lets out a new sigh. "Fine, I think I can bloody wait for a while."

"Good that" Thomas nods, unusually serious. "Meet me at the entrance in five minutes, okay?"     

* * *

After twenty minutes or so, they’re all at the clinic where Scott works, with his boss Deaton, who’s apparently a Druid and the counselor of the Pack. Well, everyone, except Lydia and Allison.

"So, let me get this straight..." Minho says, with a hand under his chin and frowning in the attempt to recap: "You’re supernatural creatures with supernatural powers. Scott’s an Alpha, a true Alpha, Isaac’s a beta, the raven girl is a supernatural creature’s huntress, and the pretty one… ouch!" he’s got to stop for a second to shield himself from the punch Teresa has just given him, all of a sudden. Newt has to stop a chuckle at that, but can’t help rolling his eyes: he still isn’t used to them together. It was a shock for him and Gally when they found out that they liked each other, when a few months before they kept arguing and couldn’t stand each other. "I was saying" the boy continues. "Lydia is a Banshee. So what about you, Thomas?"

Said boy just shrugs: "I’m human."

"Well," Gally says then, crossing his arms on his chest. "If I hadn’t the proof right in front of me, I’d say that you all have the Flare. All of this is absurd."

Both Thomas and Newt flinch hearing the name of the disease,  their eyes meet for a second before the blond moves them towards the window, not to make contact with anyone. He still remembers the terrible headache and the anger he felt when he had it, or so he thought. It was like having some kind of insects in his brain, eating everything left of his reason, making him hate the ones he loved, making him say things he didn’t even think. Taking away the few hope left and the will to live.

"Newt…" Thomas calls him, worried, his voice low and crackly, like he’s holding back the tears. The boy feels the eyes of everyone on him, realizing his breath and heartbeat have quickened. Without looking at them, he answers, sounding annoyed: "I’m fine."

There’s an instant of silence when the Gladers look at each other in panic.

No one has ever nominated the Flare before, because they knew it’s a painful and delicate topic for the blond, like a taboo. And obviously now that they’ve brought it up they don’t know how to act, seeing his reaction. He suddenly feels a pair of strong arms around him and his head buries into Thomas’s shoulders when he reciprocates the hug, while the other caresses his hair and rubs his back to calm him down, just like Newt did to him a few hours ago.

It’s enough to make him forget everything, without useless word of encouragement. Just Tommy.

"I’m fine" he tells him again after a while, sincerely this time, with a soft smile.  

The brunet nods, squeezing his shoulder with an hand. Then tells their story, from the Maze to the Scorch, and then to their escape from W.I.C.K.E.D., omitting the part where Newt almost lost his life. Nobody speaks until the end, and even when he’s done they keep quiet, until Deaton breaks it to start explaining what to do with Malia. Because, after all, that’s why they’re here.

Newt wants to talk to Thomas after it, but of course some unexpected events arise so, on the brunet’s request, he has to go home with his friends. Thomas promises him that he’ll come over later, but he doesn’t.

The next day they all gather in the woods. It’s stressing, and everyone has the feeling that they’re doing more harm than good, but everything ends well. Scott manages to turn Malia back to human with his howl, Allison anesthetizes Mr. Tate before he can hurt the coyote, and Thomas solves the mystery of Malia’s sister’s doll. On the other hand, the Gladers can’t help as much as they want to, because soon they find themselves running left and right without understanding what’s happening.

It would be a good day, as full of adrenaline as Newt likes it, if it wasn’t for what he’s seen: Thomas hugging Lydia after saving her from an animal trap. An indescribable jealousy hits him while he watches the relieved look he gives her, and hears her words of encouragement… and then he rushes out of the woods and goes home without telling anyone.

He had to figure, anyway. It’s been two years, he can’t think that Thomas still feels something for him. He’s been so dumb, believing Scott’s words.  But even so, he keeps thinking about that night, in Denver, when everything seemed lost. He wants to talk about it even if it doesn’t make sense anymore, because he wants to clarify what happened for good. So, as soon as he hears the door close downstairs, he sneaks out from the window, and then runs towards Stilinski’s.  

He knocks on the door when he reaches it, without hesitation. His leg hurts for the effort, but he ignores it, and when he boy opens he looks at him right in the eyes. "Newt! There you are, we looked all over for you." Soon, the smile that has formed on the brunet’s lips fades away, seeing the serious expression on the other’s face.

Who says: "We need to talk" and this time he’s not leaving until they do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi!  
> I'm sorry it took me so long, but school's started, and I had no time to write.  
> I don't know when I will be able to update from now on, but I'll make sure to do that at least every saturday.  
> And thank you all for your support :)


	7. Please, Tommy. Please.

_Stiles' POV_

 

_He’d just survived the impossible. He hadn’t even had the chance to make sure nothing was broken, for his eyes were already elsewhere. Looking at a familiar Crank standing still in the middle of the street, but at the same time completely different from how Thomas had found him not so long before. His heart mad a double jump seeing him like that, looking so horrible: his hair had been torn out in patches, his clothes were ripped and his face covered in bruises and blood. Nobody had bothered to help him, because nobody cared about Cranks. But that was not a normal boy, that was Newt. He’d thought everything was lost, that he’d never be able to see him again, but there he was._

_"We’re okay._ _She’s shot to hell, but hopefully she’ll get us another couple of miles to the hangar." Lawrence shouted at him from the driver seat, but it was only when he shifted into reverse that Thomas realized they were moving. He immediately snapped out for his thought, they couldn’t go away without Newt, there was one last thing he had to do._

_"Stop!" he yelled in response. "Stop the van! Now!"_

_"What are you talking about?!"_

_Even so the vehicle suddenly stopped and he tried to get off it, when a pair of strong arms held him back. In a fit of rage he pointed his gun towards the man, who lifted his hands in surrender: "Woah, kid. Calm down! What’s wrong with you?"_

_"I saw my friend out there" he explained, ignoring the knot forming in his throat. He couldn’t believe he’d really said “friend”, when he knew precisely that he was more than that. He was the one who had never left him during hard times, who had helped him, encouraged him when he thought there was no hope left. “Friend” was not enough to describe the amazing person he’d unconsciously and hopelessly fallen for. "I want to see if he’s okay" he lied, because he also had another reason, assuming the blond was still enough sane to listen to him._

_He ran out of the van, right towards the boy still frozen in his spot. He walked half the distance to him, forcing then himself to stop even if he wanted to approach him even more, to hug him and tell him everything was fine. The madness in his eyes startled him more than everything else, it was like he’d completely given up, and Thomas couldn’t let him do it._

_"Hey, Newt. It’s me, Thomas._ _You still remember me, right?" he cautiously asked, not sure how much sanity was left in him, but with his surprise he nodded: "I bloody remember you, Tommy. You just came to see me at the Palace, rubbed it in that you ignored my note. I can’t go completely crazy in a couple of days."_

_If possible, those words hurt him even more. He had made a mistake which he regretted, but even if he had read it in time, did Newt really think he would have been able to kill him? "Then why are you here? Why are you with… them?" he nodded towards the Cranks in the distance, that Newt briefly  turned to watch before drawing again his attention to him._

_"It comes and goes, man. I can’t explain it. Sometimes I can’t control myself, barely know what I’m doing. But usually it’s just like an itch in my brain, throwing everything off-kilter enough to bother me, make me angry."_

_"You seem fine, right now" definitely not the smartest thing to say, seeing in what condition he was. But Thomas knew more, that’s why he was talking to him._

_"Yeah well," Newt answered with a shrug. "The only reason I’m with these wackers from the Palace is because I don’t know what else to do. They’re fighting, but they’re also a group. You find yourself alone, you don’t have a bloody chance."_

_And with that the brunet knew it was time to start trying to convince him: "Newt, come with me this time, right now. As soon as we’re safe I’ll tell you…"_

_The boy laughed and his head twitched strangely a couple of times. "Get out of here, Tommy. Get away."_

_"Just come with me, please…" he continued._

_But maybe that wasn’t the right way to do it, maybe that was what Newt meant when he said everything made him angry, because his face suddenly hardened and he gritted his teeth: "Just shut up, you shuck traitor! Didn’t you read my note? You can’t do one last, lousy thing for me? Gotta be the hero, like always? I hate you!_ _I always hated you!" He spitted those words like they were poisoned, and they hurt Thomas. He doesn’t mean it, he thought._

_He repeated it in his mind until he almost believed it, but he had no idea if it was true or not. He had no idea what his friend thought about him. "Newt…"_

_"It was all your fault! You could have stopped them when the first Creators died. You could’ve figured out a way! But no!_ _You had to keep it going, try to save the world, be the hero. And you came to the Maze and never stopped. All you care about is yourself! Admit it!_ _Gotta be the one people remember, the one people worship! We should’ve thrown you down the Box hole!" he was yelling now, every word was like a stab in his chest._

_"I’m gonna blast him!"_ _Lawrence shouted from the van. "Get out of the way!"_

_Panic started to take over Thomas: what if he didn’t manage to tell Newt? What if at the end he'd find him in his arms, dead and covered in blood? He sent that thought away, because a life without him didn’t make sense. "No!" He lifted an hand in the man’s direction. "It’s just me and him! Don’t do anything!"_

_He didn’t know the whole story, he couldn’t understand._

_"Newt, stop. Just listen to me._ _I know you’re okay in there. Enough to hear me out." he said again to the boy._

_"I hate you, Tommy!" but he kept going. Now he was only a few feet away, and the madness in his eyes was so much that it scared the brunet, he had to take a step back. "I hate you, I hate you, I hate you! After all I did for you, after all the freaking klunk I went though in the Maze, You can’t do the one and only thing I’ve asked you to do! I can’t even look at your ugly shuck face!"_

_It was too late. Newt would never hear him out, not in those conditions. Tears started to come up while he realized that, if they’d kept going like that, he would have forced him to kill him. Or he would have died instead. "Newt, you need to stop._ _They’re going to shoot you. Just stop and listen to me!_ _Give me another chance..."  He couldn’t kill his best friend. He just couldn’t._

_Newt screamed and rush forward. He heard the sound of the Launcher as he was thrown to the ground; his back hit the concrete causing a sharp and terrible pain on his spine that knocked the breath out of him. Thank god the lightning shot had missed him._

_"I should rip your eyes out!" Newt yelled again. "Teach you a lesson in stupidity._ _Why’d you come over here? You expected a bloody hug? Huh?_ _I nice sit-down to talk about the good times in the Glade?"_

_Thomas shook his head, that was not the reason. And even if he was scared, even if he felt like he was about to burst into tears, he didn’t want to give up. His gaze fell on the gun laying beside him, but didn’t make a move to grab it._

_"You wanna know why I have this limp, Tommy? Did I ever tell you? I don’t think I did."_

_His eyes widened. He’d been wondering for weeks why he did so, he couldn’t believe he was actually telling him of his own will. "What happened?"_

_"I tried to kill myself in the Maze. Climbed halfway up one of those bloody walls and jumped right off. Alby found me and dragged me back into the Glade right before the door closed._ _I hated the place, Tommy. I hated every second of every day. And it was all... your... fault!"_

_The grip in his chest tightened, then._ _Newt had given up. Never thought they would have come out of that place and tried to kill himself... just like he was doing right at that moment, with the slight difference that he was asking_ him _to do that. With a sudden move, he grabbed the gun and pointed it to his own forehead, taking then Thomas’ hand to place it on it._

_It was happening all too fast, his heart was pounding in his chest. He wasn’t ready for this._

_"Now make amends!" the blond said, his voice low. "Kill me before I become one of those cannibal monsters!_ _Kill me! I trusted you with that note! No one else. Now do it!"_

_He couldn’t. He couldn’t. He was not going to lose the love of his life, not when he knew there was still hope. And he was sure that, if he’d pulled the trigger, he would never forgive himself. He tried to move his hand, but Newt was too strong. "I can’t, Newt.. I can’t…"_

_"Make amends!_ _Repent for what you did!" his whole body was trembling and his voice dropped even more until it was just an urgent, harsh whisper. "Kill me, you shuck coward. Prove you can do the right thing._ _Put me out of my misery."_

_“That’s exactly what I’m trying to do, Newt!” he thought, swallowing hard. "Newt, we can…"_

_"Shut up! Just shut up! I trusted you! Now do it!"_

_“You have to trust me again...”_

_"I can’t."_

_"Do it."_

_"I can’t!"_

_"Kill me or I’ll kill you. Do it!"_

_"Newt…"_

_"Do it before I become one of them."_

_"I…"_

_Why didn’t he let him talk? What didn’t he let him explain?_

_"KILL ME."_

_And then Newt’s eyes cleared, as if he’d gained one last trembling gasp of sanity, and his voice softened: "Please, Tommy. Please."_

_The gun trembled into Thomas’ hand, his finger way too close to the trigger. He couldn’t look at him as all his hope drifted away. And understood that there was just one thing to do: with a tug, he pulled the gun away from his head and, before the other could react, connected their lips together. There was nothing romantic in it, as he’d always imagined it. The boy’s lips were chapped and tasted of blood, and for a few seconds the blond stood there rigid without doing anything. Until, finally, he kissed back. As if everything else was gone, as if he didn’t just beg him to kill him._

_And Thomas didn’t want to break that contact to know if it worked and he’d calmed down, if he was ready to hear him out, but did it anyway, staring at the other’s eyes. "Just listen to me, please… just for a sec, okay?"_

_Rage was gone, now, replaced by sincere confusion and surprise, maybe even affection, but the brunet wasn’t sure of it. And then Newt nodded._

_"Okay" Thomas let out a sigh of relief. Was that really enough to wipe away all his madness? "Newt, you don’t have the Flare._ _Never had."_

_"What...?" he said, frowning._

_"No, please. Let me finish._ _Teresa got his memory back and found out all of this is just a fantasy of the Creators. There’s nothing real. The Flare doesn’t exist, they’re just mad people who told everyone in Denver that there’s a mortal disease, but it’s all fake. It seems like, saying that you’re not immune, triggers something in your head that makes you think you really have it. And so you slowly start to go crazy, until you surrender to it." he quickly explained everything, fearing that Newt wouldn’t believe him. "Please, come with me._ _You’re feeling a lot better now, aren’t you?_ _Just knowing it isn’t real."_

_The boy pulled back and got away from him, his hands covering his mouth, the gun on the ground completely forgotten._

_Sanity was back in his eyes and he seemed to realize, slowly, that he was just fine._

_"Newt…"_

_"Tommy._ _Are you sure about that?" he interrupted him again, looking at him right in the eyes._

_"Hundred percent sure._ _Those people are just puppets in the Creators’ hands…" he nodded in the Cranks’ direction. "It was just another Trial. Come with me."_

_Newt seemed to think about that request, for the first time. He ran his fingers through the few hair he had left and then touched his face. He didn’t even look like the same guy of a few minutes before. Especially not when he lifted his gaze and a soft, weak, imperceptible smile, formed on his lips. And said the one and only word Thomas wanted him to say: "Okay."_

Stiles stares at the boy in front of him, worried about all his determination. He knows what he wants to talk about, but he doesn’t think he’s ready. He bites his lips and tells him to come in, closing the door before leading him upstairs, to his bedroom. Newt doesn’t even try to sit down, probably thinking he won’t stay here too long.

"What do you want to talk about?" he asks, his voice trembling.

"You bloody know what, Tommy." he responds, while crossing his arms on his chest. "We never had the chance to discuss about what happened in Denver."

Stiles lowers his gaze and reduces the distance between them, with a sigh. He still remembers too well that night, and it still hurts: "There’s nothing to talk about. I would never have killed you..."

"You kissed me, remember?"

A knot forms in his throat at these words. Because his had been a spontaneous act, but he can’t deny he’d always wanted to do that, from the moment they met. He starts thinking that maybe Newt doesn’t feel the same way, but then… their story doesn't go just as far as the trials.

A sound of exasperation comes out of the blond’s mouth when he doesn’t get a response: "I have no idea what you were thinking, back then, okay? But I’m well aware that you don’t have feelings for me, I saw the way you look at Lydia, and I don’t want to get my hopes up again. I just want to know why you did that, alright? If it even meant something to you."  

Stiles opens his mouth to say something, but closes it right away, too shocked to speak.

"And then you started acting weird and I just… I don’t get this. I don’t get _you_."

Why doesn’t he say something? Anything? He can explain, he can admit his feelings, but instead he stays silent until Newt starts to get annoyed, and then snorts: "I should go." he says, before getting past him to reach the door. Something clicks in Stiles’ head, then: he grabs his arm and pulls him closer not to let him go, finally gaining some courage: "I don’t know what you saw, but I swear that there’s nothing going on between me and Lydia. Yes, I kissed you and I don’t regret it, I didn’t do it because I thought it was the last resort. I did it because I love you, Newt. You forgot the years in W.I.C.K.E.D.? You never would have doubted it, back then. When we didn’t give a shuck about the rules and kissed in the broom closet not to get caught by the cameras." he removes a lock of hair from his face."For the past two years, I never stopped thinking about your promise, and it helped me go through all this klunk. You have no idea how happy I was when I saw you in that class…"

The blond’s cheeks are completely flushed now. He reaches out to caress his face, softly, as if he fears that it might crumble at any moment. The scars of the bruises he had in Denver are still there, perfectly visible at that distance. He leans in to place a kiss on his forehead, closing his eyes for a second as he promises himself nothing will ruin that angel’s face he’s fallen for, ever again, and will make anyone who dares to touch him pay for that.

"I don’t want to leave you, okay?" he whispers on his skin.

Newt lifts his head enough to let their eyes meet again, and then closes the gap between them, in a soft and slow kiss, that finally makes Stiles feel the butterflies in his stomach.

And the boy knows, while his lips are pressed against the other’s, that that’s where he belongs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I've wanted to write my version of chapter 55 forever, but never had the chance to. So I thought, why not put it in this fic. And it kind of happened...  
> I hope the Flare thing makes sense, it does in my head, but I don't know if I explained it properly.  
> Thanks again for your support :)  
> See you next saturday, or hopefully sooner.
> 
>  
> 
> P.S. I just realized I've made so many mistakes... it was 11.30 pm when I updated it, and I had headache and my mom was yelling me to go to sleep. So I completely forgot to check it, before posting. I corrected them, but if you find others, I'm sorry.


	8. The calm before the storm

Stiles’ POV

 

One of Stiles’ recurrent dreams is the Nemeton, a giant tree of which the only thing left is the trunk, with an unimaginable power. Weeks ago, the Pack fought a dark druid, the Darach, who wanted to restore said power using human sacrifices, and use it for his own purpose. To do this he’d chosen three people from each category: first the virgins, then the warriors, the healers, the philosophers and last but not least the guardians. This one included Melissa, Scott’s mother, Stiles’ dad and Chris Argent, Allison’s father. The three kids had been forced to resort to drastic measures to save them. Thanks to one of Deaton’s methods, they’d died for sixteen hours, to find out where the Nemeton was, for the Darach hid his victims there, and then come back to life. Though, this has opened a door in their minds that must be closed as quickly as possible. Scott and Allison have managed to do that... Stiles has no idea where to start.

Yet, this night any kind of nightmare doesn't come, maybe because the events of the evening before have managed to lighten the weight he feels upon himself, or because Newt has slept peacefully beside him, legs intertwined with his and an arm around his waist, while his head was placed on his chest. The blond was too tired to go home and hear the others' lecture, so he’s stayed, and the two of them have talked and talked until both have fallen asleep in each other’s arm.

Stiles is the one who wakes up first, making sure to  turn off the alarm so he can wake up Newt. He takes his time to watch that angel’s face, so relaxed, so serene, his lips lifted slightly probably because of a dream. The brunet doesn’t remember the last time he’s seen him like this.

He risks reaching out to caress the other’s blond hair, sliding then his thumb on his cheek and on his scars, so softly that Newt doesn’t even feel it.

He smiles while, after checking the time, he leans in to place a kiss on his forehead.

The boy’s soft snoring suddenly stops then, and he starts moving, the grip on Stiles’ waist tightens a bit. "What time is it?" he mumbles, his voice muffled by the brunet’s shirt. Even so, his eyes keep closed.

"Time to go to school" Stiles replies, not able to prevent a smile. Last thing he wants is to break that warm hug and endure another coach’s lectures and chem…. But it is also true that they can’t stay all day there, curled up under the sheets, not to mention that his dad would kill him if he tried to ditch school. Moreover, Newt has to go back to the others.

"Five more minutes..." murmurs said boy.  

With all the willpower he can find, Stiles moves, gently removing the boy’s arm, and then gets up. He already misses the contact with the other, but forces himself to reach the closet.

He hears a snort behind him, and imagines that Newt has finally given up. "Where are you going?"

"Shower. You can take it too, if you want" he turns to see him with a grin and tosses him some new clothes so he can change; they’re probably too large for him, but better than nothing. After that he exits the room and walks towards the bathroom. On the way he almost crushes into his dad: "Morning!" he exclaims. The man watches him with a scowl, a bit surprised by the fact that he’s already woken and, especially, in a good mood.

"Are you alright?" he asks in fact. "You haven’t had nightmares tonight…"

"Never better. You’re going to work?"

The sheriff narrows his eyes, studying him as to find some aberration, but then shrugs. "Call me if you need me."

"Sure, dad."

And when he’s finally gone, Stiles enters the bathroom and turns the water on. He stares at his reflection in the mirror for a couple of seconds, watching the bags forming under his eyes, before stripping and quickly running under the hot jet of water, not to catch cold. He closes his eyes as it runs on his skin, wiping the tiredness away.

After fifteen minutes he gets out of the shower and gets dressed, going then back to his room. Here he finds Newt watching his stuff on the shelves and on the desk, his hair still ruffled.

"Hey" the blond jolts hearing his voice, turning to see him with an annoyed look. "Sorry."

Newt snorts and gets past him to take a shower. In the meantime, Stiles puts his book into the backpack and makes the bed, on which he then sits to wait, while he checks his phone. He has a lot of texts from an unknown number, probably Teresa’s, asking him basically the same thing: “Newt’s gone! Is he with you? I’m going to murder him!”. He reassures her that the boy’s safe and sound and that there’s no need to do such thing. Also because the only way to kill him is over his dead body.

Newt comes back right at that moment: the clothes are obviously a little too large for him, and not exactly his style, his hair is still wet and more ruffled than before but… Stiles can’t help thinking he’s handsome nonetheless.

It’s fine to think about him this way, right? After all he’s admitted his feelings.

"Shut your mouth if you don’t want bugs in your teeth, Tommy" the smirk on the other’s face brings him back to reality, and he realizes he’s been staring. So he quickly gets up and takes Newt’s arm to lead him out: "We’re late, and we have to go to your place too" is his excuse.

He doesn’t notice though Newt’s satisfied expression.

* * *

Stiles parks the jeep in front of school. It would be a morning like the others, if it wasn’t for a certain blond sat on the passenger seat who’s kept glancing at him during the whole ride. A lot of questions fill the brunet’s mind. Questions like: “What now?” and “What happened yesterday has changed everything or we’re still at a dead end?”. But before he can gain the courage to ask, Newt speaks for him: "What happens now?" and he’s definitely not referring to their plans for the morning, the afternoon, or anything about the pack. Nope.

Stiles turns off the car and looks at him, reaching out to take his hand. The contact sends shivers around his spine, despite his skin being so warm it almost burns.

What is he supposed to say? What are the right words?

When they were at W.I.C.K.E.D. there hadn’t been those kind of problems. They’d kissed once, accidentally, and the next day they’d met at the same place and done it again. It’d become a routine, until over time they’d started to make it official that they were together, without telling the others though.

Now everything’s different, everything’s changed. These two years have tore them apart, Stiles has begun a new life, Newt has taken a different road… and it’s like they don’t even know each other anymore. Like all their certainties are suddenly gone.   

"Does it mean we’re together?" The blond asks again, not receiving a response. He’s biting his lip, sign that he’s not really sure about the outcome of the conversation.

On the other hand, Stiles isn't either. He wants with all himself to say yes, to shout at the world that Newt’s his boyfriend and he’s always been… but a remote recess of a dark corner of his mind tells him not to rush, because if he accepted, he would put the boy in new dangers, and that would mean risking again his life.

"What do you want?" he asks then, his voice so low that he almost doesn’t hear it himself. Obviously Newt response is an intense look, as if to say: “Is that even a question?!”

"Then..." Stiles sighs, because for once he wants to be a little selfish and take the one and only thing he loves the most. "Then we can try."

The blond grins while he leans in to place, softly, his lips on his in a quick peck, that is enough to warm Stiles’ heart up. He can’t help smiling back.

After that they both get off the jeep and enter school: the hallways are as usual full of students, from greenies to seniors, chatting a little too loudly. Scott’s and Stiles’ lockers are near the entrance so he doesn’t have to walk to far to reach it, and his best friend is already there waiting for him alongside the others.

Allison’s discussing about something with Lydia, Isaac looks like he’s listening only to what comes out the raven girl’s mouth, and Scott looks like he’s about to burst into laughter but is holding back not to hurt their feelings.

The two boys approach them, without noticing they’re still holding hands.

"Good morning, shanks." Stiles greets them. It feels good to use the Gladers’ slang, that he’s had to put aside because no one understood it. "What are you guys talking about?"

"Good morning to you too, something-face." says the strawberry blond girl, looking at him with the corner of her eye. "After the thing with Malia, we were thinking about taking a break and go out, have fun, we’re talking about what we could do. I suggested a party, but Allison says I would traumatize your friends."

Newt snorts a laugh at that: "Oh, don’t worry. Minho is a party guy. And we had to adjust to his needs."

Lydia glances with a smirk at the girl, who immediately starts objecting: "Even so, I don’t think it’s a good way to know each other better. At a party you always end up getting drunk and lost into other people."

"Mh, you got a point here, I guess."

"We could hang out at my place and talk" Scott suggests.

"You keep forgetting your dad’s around, and it’s better if he doesn’t know some things" Isaac replies. Something clicks in Stiles' head, then. They’re making plans for the afternoon, and he’s involved, the Gladers are involved, _Newt_ is involved. For once, spending time with the pack seems a bad idea. "Do whatever you want, but count me out."

"Why?" Newt and Lydia ask at the same time.

Stiles turns to see the boy with a grin, pinning his hip with an elbow. "Because I will be with you, somewhere else. Got it?"

The blond blinks a few times, as if he doesn’t understand at all. Not that they have a lot of experience in those kind of things, and as an attempt to ask him out Stiles isn’t doing a great job. "Moreover," he keeps going. "I have to keep you away from Teresa’s fury. Oh! Speaking of the devil..."

"NEWTON!" they hear a scream coming from the entrance. The girl is literally running through the hallway with a severe expression drawn on her face, Gally and Minho follow her with their arms crossed. They’re scary, they seem like full-scale bullies, but Stiles knows that they’re as sweet as sugar after all… more and less. They’re just angry.

"Shuck…" the boy whispers gritting his teeth, glancing at the brunet and begging him to do something.

As soon as the Gladers reach them, Teresa hugs him so tight that Stiles fears she will crush him like a walnut. "Where the hell have you been?! We were worried sick, you shuck face!"

"I know... I’m sorry..." he manages to say, trying to breathe. "T, you’re bloody choking me…"

She lets him go immediately, mumbling her apologies. The other two just punch him, not too hard, on the shoulder. Newt seems happy that they haven’t murdered him.

"What were you doing at Thomas’, anyway?" Gally asks as soon as order’s back. Everyone turn to see Stiles, even the members of the pack who now seem interested in the conversation, especially Scott. Is that a smirk the one on his face? "Yeah, _Stiles_. What was Newt doing at _your_ place? He didn’t sleep there, did he?"

"He sure did!" Minho answers, with a laugh.

At this point, both of the boys are redder than a tomato and the blond keeps opening and closing his mouth, as if he wants to respond but can’t find the right words to do that, too embarrassed.

With Stiles’ surprise, Teresa is the one who breaks the tension. "You two have talked." It’s not a question, and he wonders how she knows. Did Newt tell her everything? She shoots said boy a significant look, and the blond has to shrug.

"And?"

The boys look at each other for a brief moment, not sure about what to do. Tell them or keep it a secret until the right moment? Sure, Stiles knows none of his friends is homophobic, and they wouldn’t have any problem, but as usual he has his doubts.

At the end, though, he decides that he can do it. And a secret relationship never works anyway.

"And…" he starts, lifting a corner of his mouth. "I basically told him I love him."

Silence follows these words.

Newt shifts uncomfortably in his spot , stubbornly staring at the floor.

Then Minho lifts his arms and shouts: "Finally! About time!"

Teresa smirks and ruffles the blond’s hair, Gally rolls his eyes. Scott laughs  and nods his approval, while Isaac looks at Stiles with his eyebrows furrowed.

"I thought you had an historical crush on Lydia…" Allison murmurs, sincerely stunned. Said girl snorts and removes a lock of hair from her face with a quick move of her hand: "I’ve personally always thought it was some kind cover."

"It worked though…" Stiles is the only one who hears Newt mumbling because he’s a feet away from him, and his smiles cracks a bit.  The bell rings right at that moment; the pack starts to walk away, but the Gladers don’t move, especially Teresa who’s still watching the blond with a scowl.

"Today" she tells him. "You and I. It’s not over, shank."

Stiles almost groans. He absolutely has to do something before the girl cuts up Newt. "Like I already said to the others, Newt’s busy today, with me. You’ll have to postpone until tonight."

She narrows her eyes and glares at the brunet, as if she doesn’t want to give up so easily. Gally has to intervene, since she doesn’t respond: "Tonight it is. We don’t want to deny some fun to these lovebirds, do we?"

Stiles lifts both of his thumbs, earning a wink from Minho, who says: "Don’t forget to use protections!"

"Shut it, Min!"

The three of them walk away laughing, waving at them. With the corner of the eye, the brunet sees that Newt’s face is completely red and stares at his feet like they’re the most interesting thing in the world, so he approaches him and places an arm on his shoulders, giving him a reassuring smile. They walk then to their economy class, and Stiles hopes that the day will end soon.

* * *

"Go, go! Turn it on!" Newt pops on the jeep screaming and shutting hard the door behind himself, which makes Stiles jolt and groan. His car is one of the best thing he has and it’s already a beater even without people treating it like that. Even so he turns it on, and when he lifts his gaze to watch the street, he sees two giants boys storming out of the school and approaching them.

He quickly pulls out the parking lot before they can reach them.

And he seems to hear them screaming even when they’re far away.

"What the shuck have you done?" he asks, almost yelling at Newt, whose breath is heavy but a smirk is drawn on his lips.

The blond shows him two chocolate bars, holding them tight as if they’re made of gold. Stiles can’t help lifting an eyebrow and laugh: "You stole some chocolate?"

"Behold my stealing ability!"

"You stole some chocolate, Newt!" although he tries to stop because he’s driving, he keeps laughing even harder. "And you got yourself caught"

"Just because I wanted to." he replies with a snort. "When you live on the street you have to learn these kind of things. And look, if you don’t want it, I can eat all of it."

"No!" Stiles takes a bar out of his hand and carefully unwraps it, making sure not to drive off the road. With the corner of the eye he sees Newt chuckle and bite his.

Then frowns, realizing just now what he’s said: "You stole?"

The thing that worries him the most is the calm in the other’s eyes, and the ease with which he shrugs. "Only when we really needed it. When you constantly move around, you don’t have time to find a job and earn some money, so you have to resort to drastic measures. Sure, we didn’t steal from bloody banks or something like that, just from people walking on the street. Sometimes we even asked for a handout with the excuse of my leg’s surgery." he explains patiently, without fearing what Stiles would think. After all, he understands. W.I.C.K.E.D. has, among other things, taught them to think only about themselves and eventually their friends. Not to be selfless. Not to be polite. Just to survive. "And anyway, it’s not that we didn’t feel bad. We’re not talking about bloody Cranks, people completely Gone who didn’t need that stuff anymore, people without any kind of hope… the ones we stole the wallets from had families, maybe kids, taxes to pay,  the shop to do. It mustn’t be good to have your salary taken away."

"Yeah, well…" the brunet says. "Never tell my dad about this, okay?"

"Wasn’t going to."

They smile at each other. Life keeps going, yet there are still those little things from which they know it will never be the same: the way they think, the way they act, the fact that they can’t trust anyone but themselves. And nobody that hasn’t experimented on his own skin what they had to go through, can never understand that. Just being with Newt there, laughing and joking, is more than Stiles has ever wished for.

"Where are we going anyway?" the blond asks again, watching the street for the first time.

"There’s a movie theater not to far from here. I thought we could go see The Revenant, I heard it’s cool."

"I don’t know much about movies, I trust you."

Like the movie’s what I’m interested in, the brunet thinks with a smirk. Sure, he doesn’t really need a dark place to kiss Newt, hold his hand, shoot him hidden glances, and the movie theater’s the most cliché place in date’s history. But that’s not a date after all... more like a simple “hang”.

He parks in front of the building and they get off the car, entering then to get the tickets. They also buy popcorn to share, even if Stiles knows they won’t last too long. It’s always like this.

They sit at their spots and wait for the movie to start.

It’s not as good as Stiles thought. The boy loses interest after half an hour, and his attention drifts to Newt, beside him: he watches his face, his eyebrows furrowed in a way that he finds kind of cute, the thing he does sometimes of licking his lips….

How can people not fall in love with someone like him?

"You’re distracting me, Tommy." the blond whispers with a grin. He turns to see Stiles, with his deep eyes that in the dark seem like black wells. He can’t prevent himself from leaning in and brush their lips together, briefly, placing then his head on his shoulder and taking his hand. Their fingers fit together perfectly, like they’re made for this.

Maybe he falls asleep at some point, cuddled by the warmth of that proximity, or maybe he closes his eyes for a brief moment. He doesn’t pay any attention to the movie anymore.

And when he realizes it’s over and the light are on again, he has to use all of his willpower to break the contact and get up, to exit the building and drive Newt home.

"Next time I choose the movie." says Newt as soon as they’re on the jeep again.

During the ride back they talk about the most popular movies and the ones they can watch together once the dust settles. Stiles manages to convince him to do the marathon of Star Wars, since Scott doesn’t want to. And before they know it they find themselves in front of the Gladers’ house: lights upstairs and in the kitchen are on, so they’re probably inside.

"I guess I can’t postpone the inevitable anymore…" he murmurs, turning the car off and looking at Newt. "Will you call me when you’re done?"

He tortures his hands glancing at the house, sighing then before answering: "Of course." He gives him an hint of a smile. "Thank you, Tommy. It’s been fun."

He places a kiss on his cheek and opens the door to get off, but Stiles holds him back again, taking his hand: "Will you bring me another chocolate bar tomorrow?"

A laugh comes out of the blond’s mouth, who nods and reaches out to ruffle the other’s hair. "Anytime, Tommy. It’ll be our little secret."

Then, with a last smile, he frees himself from Stiles’ grip and walks away towards the building. The boy watches him going in and waits another couple of seconds to pull out of the driveway and  take the road to his own place, thinking about the last few days with Newt.

Maybe, he thinks, his presence can help him close that damn door.

Maybe, the threat can be prevented and everything can go back to normal, letting him breathe.

He can’t imagine that danger is, instead, right around the corner.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, shanks!
> 
> First of all. I'm sorry it took me so long... I've been busy with school, and couldn't seem to focus on this fic.  
> But I did it!  
> I hope you're not vanished in the meantime :'  
> So, okay, I wanted to add a chapter where Newt and Thomas relationship becomes official, before continuing with the story.  
> Angst is almost here, can't wait to write about it! Unfortunately next chapter will be about Barrow... I don't really like that episode, but still, I can't skip it ahah  
> See you then!


	9. That's not how we deal with things

Teresa is waiting for him in the kitchen, while trying to make a dinner that won’t intoxicate them all. T’s not really good at cooking, none of them actually is, but without Frypan they have to do it by themselves, and they obviously can’t order pizza and junk food every day.

So they take turns cooking something at least eatable.

"Are you planning on telling me what happened yesterday?" she asks once he sets foot in the room. The thing that he likes most about Teresa is that she gets right to the point, in a few choice words. Sure, this has also it’s negative aspects, because sometimes it doesn’t give you the chance to think of another decent excuse or to try to escape.

"Can I pass?"

"Nope"

"Good that," Newt sits back in his chair at the table, entwining his hands on his lap. And starts to tell her everything that’s happened le night before, though he says that he didn’t feel well and so he came home. He has no intention on admitting that he’s felt jealous because he saw Thomas with Lydia, when there was nothing to be jealous about.

"You could have warned us, you know?" she protests when he’s done. "We looked everywhere for you the whole evening. We thought some weird creature had eaten you, or something"

"I can take care of myself, T"

"Oh, yeah?" The girl turns to look at him raising an eyebrow and crossing her arms. Newt understands her skepticism, considering how he wanted to deal with his situation in Denver... but that ends there. He doesn’t have death wishes at all.

He shrugs, drawing some weird symbols on the table with the index, and she probably gets that the conversation is over, so she changes the subject.

"You really want to stay here?" she asks in a low voice, and Newt finally looks at her, perplexed.

"What do you mean?"

Teresa sighs, drawing her attention to the window. "I mean… this thing about the werewolves, the supernatural… isn’t it too much? We escaped from W.I.C.K.E.D. so we could have a normal life, and instead we ended up fighting again against something that goes beyond our knowledge. You almost died once. Is this worth risking your life again?"

The boy watches her intensively, frowning: he can’t believe she actually said it. She’s really suggesting to run away and have the others do the grunt work? No way.

"If it means being with Tommy, then yes. And by the way, since when do the Gladers step aside?" he argues then. "A friend needs our help and we leave him here to die?"

"We’re not Gladers anymore, Newt. It’s just the five of us, the others are missing somewhere in the world. We have nothing to worry about, if not to build ourselves a new life _away_ from the danger."

"If it was about Minho, would you go?" Newt grits his teeth and gets up, staring at her. He’s been here for a week and has finally found Thomas, he won’t leave him again.

Teresa hesitates for a moment, but then lifts her hand in surrender: "Alright, you won."

So Newt reaches the door with the intention on putting some distance between the two of them for a while. How could she even think about such a thing? "I’m not hungry. I’ll be in my room if you need me." And with this he exits the kitchen and goes upstairs to his bedroom. He crashes on his bed, taking his phone out of his pocket and typing Tommy’s number. He needs to talk to him now.

"Hello?" the phone rings twice before he answers, making the blonde grin.

"Hey…"

"Wow, you’re still alive?  Thought she would have skinned you" he almost sees the smirk on the boy’s lips.

"Yeah… well, she thought about it too"

"So, what did she say?"

All the happiness he’s felt hearing Thomas’s voice immediately disappears, and Newt bites his bottom lip: "She and the others want to leave Beacon Hills."

Silcence. He knows Thomas hasn’t hung up just because he can still hear his breath, which has become a little bit heavier, but that moment seems to last hours and it’s like a torture to him. "What about you?" the other finally asks, in a whisper.

"I told her I don’t bloody want to." he assures, smiling when he hears the brunet’s relief.

"Good"

"Yeah"

"Look… I have to go. There’s something I need to do. See you at school?"

"Sure. Goodnight, Tommy" he waits his answer before hanging up. It’s lasted only five minutes, but it’s long enough for Newt. He puts his phone on his nightstand and, without even noticing, he immediately falls asleep.

The morning after, he’s awakened by the annoying noise of the alarm. He’s a little surprised that no one has come up to wake him up, and he also realizes he hasn’t done his homework.

He hopes he can copy them from Thomas, or from somebody else.

He approaches the door yawning, with the intent of going to the bathroom, but as soon as he makes a step out of the room something heavy hits him in the head.

And everything darkens.

 

When he wakes up again he finds himself sat on the passenger seat in the back of the car, with the seatbelt fastened.

In front of him, Minho and Gally are talking about something in a low voice, but all he can get from that conversation are some words, like “Beacon Hills” and “Thomas”. They’re probably talking about him, then.

"Newt?" Teresa, beside him, places an hand on his shoulder. He shrugs it off.

He feels betrayed, angry, disappointed...

They’ve knocked him out just to take him with them, because they knew he would never have left on his own.

"I’m sorry, it’s for the best" she adds, with a hint of a sad smile. She probably doesn’t like leaving Thomas too, but Teresa isn’t attached to him like Newt is.  Not anymore. So she can’t really understand.

He doesn’t answer. He just glares at her before drawing his gaze outside the window.

Seen the sun’s position, it must be at least noon, which means they’ve been on the street for nearly six hours.

He picks up his phone: he has ten missed calls from Tommy, and twenty texts in which he asks him where the hell he is. There are also three voicemails he immediately listens to.

 

_Newt, where the hell are you? You said we would have met at school. Scott and I have made a prank to the Coach, you should have seen his face! Too bad I didn’t take a picture._

_Call me back, alright?_

_Newt, it’s me again._ _I’m starting to worry about you. Here’s a mess, call me and I’ll explain. Please, tell me you haven’t decided to leave with the others…_

_Newt. Where the fuck are you?_ _There’s a serial killer on the loose, I don’t want you to get hurt._

_Scott and the others are trying to find him, Lydia says he might still be at school, but there’s no sign of him for the moment. Please, call me back or I’ll come looking for you._

"Stop the car!" he orders almost yelling, after he's finished listening to the last voice mail, making the other three jump. Minho pulls over, turning then to see him.

"Look, man. I know we shouldn’t have forced you to come with us, at least not like this, but what is done is done..."

"No, you don’t get it. They’re in danger. We have to go back!" His breath his heavy now. He does a mental count of how much it would take them to return to Beacon Hills. If nothing goes wrong,  they could be in town at 6:00 pm. He hopes Thomas and the others won’t get into more troubles by then.

"There’s a serial killer, I don’t know the details but I’m not willing to make them deal with it alone"

"They’re bloody werewolves, Newt" Gally argues, with his usual bossy and impolite tone of voice. "They’re gonna be fine."

"Well, I’m not. Let’s go back" he stares right at him, gritting his teeth. Then moves his gaze towards the Asiatic, who’s biting his lips. "You’re cowards. We spent years preparing for this kind of things, and now you run away like a  bunch of frightened rats? Minho, I thought you were smarter than this, the one who was ready to give up on anything just to help a friend. Thomas is our best friend!"

They stay silent for a while, to ponder the blonde’s words. There’s a palpable tension in the car, Newt knows he has them on the palm of his hand. "Please… when this is all over, you can do whatever you want. Even leave."

He keeps staring at his best friend with expectation, and he doesn’t disappoint him. Minho straightens and turns the car towards the opposite direction.

Now Newt has to hope to make it in time, he doesn’t want to feel useless anymore.

 

The sky’s darkened when they arrive in Beacon Hills. Unfortunately they’ve been stuck in a traffic jam for a while, so they’re two hours late. Newt called Thomas half an hour ago to know where they were heading to (earning an outburst from the other, visibly tensed up). Now they’re going to a power station, because Barrow, the killer, has taken Kira as a hostage. Thomas has told him what happened more or less: that morning at school the cops closed the doors because they thought he was there; the pack started searching all over the building without finding him, thinking then that maybe Lydia –who had one of her feelings- was wrong. In the end though, she and Thomas found the proof, in one of the chem classes, that Barrow was actually there, and was looking for Kira.

They get to the power station when everything’s already over. The Banshee’s waiting outside, on Thomas’s jeep. Newt runs inside to make sure everything’s okay, but after a few steps he finds the boy coughing on the ground.

"Hey..." he helps him get up. "Are you alright? What the hell happened?"

"I don’t know…" Thomas whispers with a gravelly voice, eyeing him before hugging him so tight he almost can’t breathe. "Don’t you ever make me worry like that again, shuck face"

Newt smiles, hugging him back and placing a soft kiss on his cheek. "Promised."

They will talk later about this, now he just wants to make sure he’s fine. Unfortunately they don’t have a lot of time to relax: from the outside they hear the sound of the police sirens, coming to check. Somebody must have called them, probably Scott, or Kira. Is she still alive?

The boy hopes nothing bad has happened.

"Dammit…" Thomas whispers, beside him, as he looks at the profile of a men with black hair and a federal uniform approach them. Scott’s father.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm finally back, shanks!!  
> It's been so looong, you have no idea how guilty I feel. I'm really sorry I didn't update earlier.  
> I'm also sorry for the crappy chapter, but I had to post something. I promise the next will be better :)


	10. All I know, is that the end's beginning

NEWT’S POV

 

"So..." says McCall, staring at the kids sat on the couch in front of him. They’re in the sheriff’s office where they’ve been dragged after being caught at the power station.

Everyone but the Gladers, who maybe have had the good sense of hiding when they heard the sound of the sirens. "When did you get there?"

"At the same time" Thomas immediately answers with a smirk. Newt thinks he must be really mad with the man, but he has no idea what he’s done.

"At the same time as who?"

"At the same time as me" Scott steps in, in his friend’s defense. The two of them glance at each other as the man raises an eyebrow in their direction, arms crossed over his chest. "By coincidence?"

"What do you mean ‘by coincidence’?" snaps Thomas.

"That’s what I’m asking you. The two of you arrived at the same time. Was that coincidence?"

Thomas frowns: "Are you asking me?"

"I think he’s asking me" Scott replies, faking confusion.

"I think he’s asking both of you" Lydia comments.

Newt can’t suppress a laugh that he as to dress up as a cough. He must admit that he’s come to love this weird company: they don’t do anything of what they’re told, they risk their life half the time, and their way to talk to adults is just genius. They know things that few can imagine, they’re open minded.

McCall glares at him, he can’t hold him in a high regard because his gaze drifts quickly towards Thomas. "Barrow was hiding in the chemistry closet at the school. Someone left him a coded message on the blackboard telling him to kill Kira. Then Barrow took Kira to a power substation with the intent of electrocuting her, which blacked out the intire town."

Thomas’ eyebrows snap upwards. "Sounds about right."

"How did you know he’d take her to a power station?"

"Well…" Newt knows the boy’s about to come up with a terrible excuse. He does that. "He was an electrical engineer." Precisely. Neither the man seems to buy it. "That’s one  hell of a deduction there, Stiles…"

"Yeah, what can I say? I take after my pops. He’s in law enforcement" Thomas winks at the sheriff behind the desk, and it's his turn to snort a laugh. As soon  as he sees the glare from his superior though, he forces himself to fake a severe look: "Stiles, please… just answer the man."

The boy rolls his eyes in response: "We made a good guess"

"What were the two of you doing?" the man asks then Scott and Kira.

"Eating pizza"

"Eating sushi"

They say at the same time, looking at each other when they realize they’ve said different things. So they try again:

"Eating sushi"

"Eating pizza"

The man, confused, eyes the both of them, until they finally decide to talk together: "Eating pizza _and_ sushi." Then turns to face Stilinski, shaking his head in sign that he doesn’t know what to do with them.

"You believe all of this?" asks the man.

"To be honest" the sheriff answers with a sigh. "I haven’t believe a single word that Stiles has said since the day he learned how to speak," a satisfied grin lit up on the boy’s face. "But I think these kids found themselves at the wrong place in the wrong time, and that girl is lucky to be here."

McCall nods, even if Newt gets that he doesn’t want to wrap this up this easily. Clearly, there’s bad blood between the two of them. "Kira, is that how you remember it?" Everyone’s eyes move on her in an heartbeat; the blond watches her tense up and feels a little sorry for her. "Yes. Can I have my phone back, now?"

Resigned, the man moves away from the table and nods at them. "No, I’m sorry. You can go home."

He lets them leave the office, but before Newt and Thomas get out of the central, the blond hears McCall talking to his son, and gets some words of what he’s telling him: "If half this story about Barrow is true, then not only did someone help set him loose, but he was a pawn in their little game. A mass murderer is bad enough, but a mass murderer being controlled by someone? Far worse."

Newt feels shivers running down his spine, and not because he’s just stepped outside in the cold. What the hell is happening? He glances at Thomas next to him, slipping his hand into the other’s and instinctively pulls closer to him. He would never admit his fear, no. What they’ve been through during the Trials was far worse than this, but the thought of losing Tommy again terrifies him. He still has to figure out how to solve his problem, which is still there, despite no one bringing it up again. And, deep down, he knows that the end’s been triggered.

That night he sleeps at Stilinski’s because he wants to put as much space as possible between him and the Gladers. They haven’t talked about what’s happened, they haven’t had the chance to, but Newt has no intention on forgiving them so soon. Their attitude has disappointed him, despite getting their point of view and knowing that, sooner or later, they will reunite. Because they’re all he has, his family, and family means that no one gets left behind even after such a low blow.

Thomas’s breath his heavy, he’s probably being haunted by one of his nightmares. The blond slips an arm around him an places his head on his chest, feeling the boy slowly relax under his touch. And a few moments later he falls asleep too.

 

***

The next day at school it seems like everything’s back to normal, but at Newt’s eyes nothing is anymore. He wonders how the other students can walk around the corridors as if a serial killer hasn’t just been there the day before, and when everything could go downhill at every given moment. He and Thomas drift apart since they don’t have any class in common. During the day he’s able to hear several conversations between the members of the pack and other people: he finds out that an Halloween party is planned for the evening. Two guys were talking about it, one of them he recognized as Danny but the other he had no idea who he was; tall, blond, his face very similar to a dog’s. As soon as another guy reached him, though, he understood who they were, Thomas had told him about them the day before. They must be the twins, once Alphas, who the pack had had to fight not so long ago; Ethan and Aiden.

They don’t seem very frightening at the moment, but he doesn’t want to get too near to them.

In the evening instead, he finds out that Thomas and Scott want to go against the law again and sneak into the police station to take Kira’s phone. It seems like there are some compromising photos in there taken by Barrow, something about the supernatural and that the girl doesn’t want the police to see. So, since he has nothing better to do, he goes with them to help.

"Okay, this one will get you into all the perimeter doors, this one into the evidence room, and this one’s for my father’s office," says Thomas as he gives Scott and Kira the magnetic cards. The plan is to send the two of them to do the job while he and Newt check that no one gets in there.

"You didn’t steal this, did you?" the Hispanic asks, frowning.

"No! I cloned them using the RFID emulator," Thomas snaps in defense.

"Is it worse than stealing?"

The boy smirks a little, winking then at him. "It’s smarter."

Of course things couldn’t go as planned: ten minutes later a car parks in front of the entrance and Newt hears Thomas swearing beside him. Why is McCall always there to give ‘em a hard time? Suddenly Thomas, who promised himself to not do absolutely anything if something like this happened, pops out of the car to stop the man before it’s too late. Newt follows trying to keep his pace.

"Hey! Hey!" Thomas yells to draw his attention on him. "Thank God you’re here. Oh, man…" he pretends to catch some breath to spare some time. Newt glances behind the back of the man to check if the others are done, but the office is hidden.

"What do you want, Stiles?" he goes back staring at McCall, a bored look on his face.

"Oh, jeez…" he says again, breathing heavily. "I was thinking about the case."

Newt gets what he’s doing.

"I was thinking I should clue you in on my thinking. Here’s my thinking. I was thinking this, I was thinking that Barrow received the information about who to kill at school, right, you know that? So I was thinking that maybe the person that gave him that information, check this out, might actually be someone at school. And that’s, um… my thinking."

"You’re right."

"He is?" Newt says, surprised that the man’s bought it and most of all that Tommy is right, for once. He gets a scold in response from the brunet.

"Yeah, well," McCall adds. "We started looking for links between Barrow, faculty and students last night."

"So you already knew?" Newt decides to speak again. "You already thought of that?"

The man shrugs and nods at the other boy. "His dad did. His one useful suggestion."

"You know, this attitude that you have toward my dad?" Thomas snaps, and the blond knows it’s time to back off. The annoyed look on the other’s face scares him. "You can dress it up to all the professional disapproval that you want. But I know the real reason why you don’t like him."

"Oh, really?" the tension between the two of them is palpable.

"Yeah. Because he knows something that  you don’t want him to know. But guess what... I know it, too." Thomas finishes, with an icy glare that worries Newt. He’d hoped that he would never have to see it again.

McCall sighs: "Go home, boys. There’s the curfew."

Newt doesn’t need to be told twice, he grabs Thomas’s arm and pulls him towards the exit, far from the man, before he can do something he will regret later. He’s well aware of what his boyfriend can do when he gets angry, he’s seen it in several occasions. He just hopes that Scott and Kira have done what they’re here for.  

The two of them exhale when they see them coming out from the station with a triumph grin on their faces.

"That was awesome! I mean, terrifying. Completely terrifying, but still awesome. I’ve never done anything like that before. Have you?" the two friends look at each other and shrug. "Once, or twice."

Newt hides a grin, knowing that ‘once or twice’ is an understatement. He’s been around the pack for less than two weeks, but he’s already understood that things like this happen every day. Hell, he wonders if they’ve ever had some free time.

"You wouldn't want to go to a party, would you?" Thomas asks him as soon as they’re alone again in the jeep. He turns to face him with a smile. "I didn’t know you were a party guy."

"Hey, I had to fit in!" the boy laughs, reaching out to comb Newt’s hair. "So?"

The blond nods. He would do anything just to spend some time with Tommy, thinking about nothing but to have fun.

The boy takes him to a loft where the party has already  begun. Newt notices that the people is covered by a luminescent paint and dance at the rhythm of a music very similar to a rave’s. Newt doesn’t like this kind of things, he can’t dance and his leg always gives him a hard time, but hopes that the others will be too busy to look at his clumsiness. Scott and Kira have followed them and are right behind them.

"Derek can never know about this," Thomas yells to overcome the music’s sound. So that place belongs to Scott’s mentor, Derek. Newt hasn’t met him yet, but knows that he was the Alpha of the pack before the Hispanic.

Thomas whispers in his hear to follow him. He takes his hand and pulls him towards the dance floor, pushing the other people to get through them. Once they’ve reached a spot wide enough, with Newt’s surprise, Thomas starts dancing in a way that is even more awkward and silly than he could ever do. Laughing and shaking his head, he tries to mimic him, so that now they both look like idiots, but no one is watching so there’s no point in bothering.  

They make a fool of themselves for a while before both of them get too thirsty to keep dancing, so they reach an empty corner of the loft with cups full of alcohol in their hands.

"Having fun?" Thomas asks loudly, a big smile spread on his lips.

Newt nods, sitting on the floor and pulling the other down with him, their faces so close Newt can feel the other’s breath on himself. "Something’s missing, though…"

The brunet looks at him, blinking. "What?"

With a smile, he puts his drink down and places an hand on his neck, closing the distance between them. He feels the other gasp but relax right away and kiss him back as his hands run over his back to pull him even closer. This kiss lasts more than the others and it’s much more deeper, maybe because of the atmosphere that is surrounding them… or maybe because Newt has drunk and he’s not used to alcohol.

Anyways, he has no intention on complaining. He thinks he will never get used to what it feels like, to how his stomach twists every time they kiss.

But like every other things, even this has to end sooner or later. Thomas pulls back first, gasping to catch some air, they’re even more covered in sweat than they were before.  Newt lets Thomas put his arm around his shoulders and he pulls closer. He notices just then the little colored thing coming out of the boy’s pocket. Frowning he takes it so that the other can see it too: it’s a key, partly covered with some of the paint that everyone is using. But how did it get there if Tommy never even got close to the girl who paints the people’s body?

The boy takes it without asking. "Why is it glowing?"

"It must have phosphors on it," Newt tries, without even knowing where he’s got the answer. "It’s a chemical substance. Reacts to the UV light," he frowns.

"Why would I get phosphors on my key…?" Thomas asks, mirroring Newt’s thoughts. And suddenly he feels him stir. He snaps up, making the cups fall, eyes wide.

"Tommy?" Newt gets up too, worried.

"I have to go. Stay here," Thomas says, starting to walk away, but Newt stops him by clutching his wrist.

"What are you doing?"

"I have to go! I’m sorry, look for Scott. There’s something I have to do." And after giving him a small peck on his cheek, he disappears through the crowd looking for the exit.

For a while, Newt just stands there, unsure of what to do. He doesn’t get why he’s left him here alone and what is more important than him and why he can’t go with him. Then he snaps out of his thoughts and starts searching for the members of the pack, or someone he knows.

He finds no one, it seems like everyone has disappeared too. Something’s off.

And right when he thinks that he sees a black figure, with a Japanese, terrifying mask covering its face, quickly approaching him. It happens so fast. He finds himself on the floor before he can even lift a finger, shivering for the cold. _The cold?_ He hardly notices the people running outside the loft after its owner has come back.

Soon there’s only the pack, or at least a part of them, since the others have been knocked out too.

There are also the Gladers on the floor, semiconscious.

"Newt!" Allison's voice comes muffled to his ears. Slowly as he stops trembling the sight becomes less blurry, but his head keeps spinning. With the corner of the eye he sees the werewolves fighting against those weird things, Scott’s protecting Kira in a corner; Lydia, Ethan and Aiden are slowly recovering; his friends are lying against a wall instead.

The battle doesn’t last too long, as soon as the sun sets and its light illuminates the loft, the five black figures vanish.

"What were those things?" from a corner came the sound of Minho’s voice, rude as per usual.

Isaac and Allison look at each other nervously, but then the girl  speaks. Newt manages to sit up. "We don’t know for sure, but my father said he’s met them before. He thinks they’re here for him, but if it was true why would they attack us? And most of all, why didn’t they kill us?"

The loft falls into silence as everyone tries to come up with an answer to these questions.

 

STILES POV

 

Stiles runs. Runs as fast as he can. Outside the loft, inside his car. He drives towards Beacon hills High School trying not to crash onto something. And then runs again to the chem class, well aware of the fact that no one will be there to guard it, because people is afraid of what happens in that school. With trembling hands he picks up the key from his pocket and brings it close to the lock. His heart almost stops when the door opens without problems.

With caution, he enters the room and approaches the blackboard, where there’s still the message.

 

19 K

53 I

88 Ra

 

Stiles takes a chalk and, after a second of hesitation, writes again the numbers next to the original ones. _Barrow was hiding in the chemical closet at school. Someone left a coded message on the blackboard telling him to kill Kira._

Stiles can’t breathe. The handwriting match. It was him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey there, shanks.  
> Here's another chapter, much better than the previous one.  
> If you find some mistakes please report them, it's late and I might not have seen them.


	11. Shattered

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well well... look who's back.  
> I feel really bad for not updating this for a year. I hope you can forgive me with this chapter...

STILES’ POV

He knows he's in trouble as soon as he steps through his place's door: he could feel the tension in the air even from afar. “Dad?” he calls, thinking it must have something to do with him; maybe McCall's told him about their little chat, or maybe he's just mad at him because he didn't come home that night, which would be understandable anyway. When he doesn't get any response though, he frowns and quickly climbs up the stairs to his room.   
Only then he understands: Newt's on his bed with his legs and arms crossed and a look of authentic irritation. Seeing him there, Stiles brings a hand up to his face, doing everything he can to avoid his gaze. He'd completely forgot that he'd left the boy alone -and how- because of what was going on in his head.   
“Would you mind explaining where the hell you've been?” bursts out Newt, his voice as cold as the ice, without even greeting him. His first thought is to put as much distance between the two of them, but he forces himself to stay put, his gaze still stuck on the pavement below him.   
“At school...” his answer is barely a whisper, but the silence embracing them is such that the other hears it perfectly.   
“I was worried to death, Thomas. You suddenly ran away leaving me there with people I've known for almost two weeks, asking myself where you were... and you were at school?” this is not the first time Newt scolds him, but he still can't help flinching or prevent his stomach into twisting. “We were attacked, you know? I thought something had happened to you. That they had taken you and I wasn't there to fight them off.”  
At these words Stiles' head finally snaps up, eyes wide and filled with fear. He tries to get closer to make sure the other isn't injured, but the blond withdraws from his touch. He doesn't try to dwell on how much that little gesture hurts, still too concerned to think about himself: “What happened?”  
“If you'd been there, you'd know,” Newt argues, disapproval still audible in his voice. Stiles bites at his bottom lip.   
“Listen, I'm sorry” he tries to defend himself, even if he knows it won't work without a proper explanation, “I would tell you everything, but I want Scott to be here too. I have no intention on saying in twice.”  
Maybe it's the regret on his face that makes him change his mind, maybe the fact that Newt can't stay mad with him for long, anyhow suddenly his expression softens. He hopes the other will touch him or simply smile, as if to say that he's willing to get over this and forget Stiles' idiocy, but he knows better. So he sighs and just sits beside him, waiting for Newt to tell him what happened. He finds himself looking at his boyfriend in horror as he's filled in with the events of the night, but more than that he curses himself for not being there to protect Newt and the other Gladers. He's made a promise that nothing would touch the person in front of him ever again, even so he hasn't done that good of a job until now.   
“Allison's father thinks the men with the masks follow those Shanks that have a sort of connection with the supernatural, but if it was true I don't know why they've attacked me and the others too...- explains Newt who's been at the Argent's with Scott and Isaac. “He told us about when he encountered them for the first time, his first job as a hunter. They were looking for a Kumicho, the head of the yakuza, the Japanese mafia, and in the meantime they killed everything that got in their way.” A little sigh leaves his lips as he brings two fingers on his temples, trying to remember. Stiles notices just then how tired he seems. “Chris was able to shoot one of them and shatter its mask after they'd killed the man, and that's why he thought they were looking for him first, for revenge or something. But since none of us got hurt aside from a few scratches he's conviced that there's something else going on. Not talking about those symbols they put on our skin” he turns slightly around to show him a weird S under his lobe. “Obviously we don't know what it means, but Allison, Isaac and him are already working to find another survivor of that night that could give 'em some answers.”  
Stiles isn't aware that he's been fidgeting with his hands until Newt takes them in his own to make him stop. He feels like he's going to have another panic attack, so he closes his eyes and holds his breath to prevent the anxiety from taking over. “It's okay” Newt assures him. “I'm fine, see?”  
He looks at him for a long moment, gazing at every single detail on his angel face searching some kind of scratch or bruise. Nothing aside from tiredness. So he nods, twisting his hands to intertwine their fingers together, caressing his skin with his thumbs.   
He knows it's his turn to tell his part of the story.  
Five more minutes. Five more minutes like this. He says to himself. Then we can go to school.  
He tries not to show the fear in his eyes as he brings Newt's hands closer to his face to place a soft kiss on them. The fear of being judged by his best friend and his boyfriend for what he's done. 

* * *

They find Scott waiting for them next to their lockers. He nods towards them as he sees them approaching: “Hey man, you okay?” he asks promptly, looking at Newt as if the question's for him too. He probably knows how miserable the other guy was last night and wants to make sure everything's alright between them. He's impressed at how much they get along even though they've got nothing in common and have all the reasons in the world to hate each other. He should be glad there are no internal feuds among the group, still he can't help feeling a pang of jealousy: Newt's his boyfriend but also his best friend and Scott's like a brother to him... he's had these bonds with them separately for years, and now that they're friends the thought that they could bond too makes him feel weird.   
You're paranoid, he thinks. Slim it.  
He nods, opening his locker to take out the stuff he'll need during the first period. But first he needs to talk to them about what he saw, even if he just wants to run away from the truth.   
“Newt already told me what happened,” he starts, taking in a deep breath. Scott frowns, maybe disappointed that someone took his job. Usually he's the first one Stiles talks with whenever something happens.   
“Yeah. The twins already offered to be my bodyguards, since the men with the masks couldn't take me.”  
“Please tell me you refused...”  
The Hispanic shrugged. “They were irremovable.”  
He sighs, looking between him and Newt. Then he gestures for them to follow towards the chemistry lab where Barrow was hiding. His heart's pounding in his chest and soon he finds himself explaining everything as quickly as possible, hoping to get this over with soon. “Newt and I were talking yesterday evening and he made me notice that there was phosphor on my key. So that made me think about the chemistry closet and the fact that someone had to let Barrow in...” but he stops as soon as he sees that the board is perfectly clean. “It's gone...” he murmurs, with his hands in his hair. He starts feeling the axiety devouring him as the others watch him with both worry and curiosity. “Okay, it doesn't matter though. It doesn't matter. I've still got the key.”   
He approaches one of the doors in the back of the classroom, where presumably the man was hidden, and takes a bunch of keys out of his pockets. It takes him no more than two seconds to realise that the key's gone too.   
“What the hell?” he can't have imagined it all, can he? “I had it, I had it in here. I had it in here this morning, I swear. Newt saw it...”   
The blond nods, but so softly that Stiles can almost hear the trail of his thoughts. He probably thinks he's going crazy. “I was here a few hours ago. And the message left to Barrow spelling Kira's name was right here on the board, in my handwriting and I had the key of the chemistry closet.”  
“So you unlocked the chemistry closet so Barrow could hide in it and then wrote him a message on the board to kill Kira?” Newt asks, skepticism audible in his voice.   
A sound of frustration escapes Stiles' mouth: “I know it sounds weird... but look at this.” he takes his phone out and searches the page of the city's newspaper on internet that he then shows to the two of them. “This is the news report that came out about Barrow when they caught him, okay? About the shrapnel bomb that he used. See this? See what he did? He put nuts, bolts and screws. And then he hid the bomb and the detonator in a box that he wrapped as a birthday present. What does that sound like to you?” he's talking mostly to Scott now, since Newt wasn't there that day.   
“Coach. The joke we played on coach.” he answers right away.   
“That was my idea, remember? That was my idea, that's no coincidence. It can't be.” he's so restless that he can't stop moving and his voice has risen by a few inches.   
Scott seem to notice, and so does Newt who places his hands on his shoulder to block him.   
“I don't want to sound like I'm trying to tell you that your wrong. But I don't think you're trying to kill people either...” his friend says, frowning again. And Stiles knows he doesn't believe him, or at least he's trying his best not to.   
“It was here... it was all here...” maybe he's imagined everything. But that doesn't explain all the blackouts he's been having lately. The first was right before Barrow entered the school, the second at the station. He hasn't told anyone because he knows they wouldn't believe him, but maybe he should.   
“Dude, are you feeling okay? You're looking really tired” Scott states again, drawing his attention.   
“I'm fine. I just haven't been sleeping.”  
“Why don't we go home?” Newt offers. “You could use some rest.”  
He nods, too tired to argue. He feels the other's hand gripping his shoulder before leading him towards the school's entrance. There are still some students in the halls but no one pays them any attention.  
Once outside he grabs the keys of the jeep and turns it on.   
“Wouldn't it be better if I drove?” Newt suddenly asks, raising an eyebrow.   
“Nobody touches Roscoe aside of me” is his answer. He doesn't want to sound rude but his car is one of the most precious things he possesses, and he'll never let anyone put their hands on the wheel, unless he's not able to drive.   
With a shrug, the boy joins him on the seat beside his and closes the door. “Should I be jealous?”  
A soft smile appears on Stiles' lips: “Maybe” he glances at him and is relieved to see that the other's grinning too. He turns to watch the street again, suddenly serious. “I'm sorry I left you alone, I shouldn't have.”  
The boy sighs a little, shaking his head. “Doesn't matter now that I know what was bloody bugging you. I wish you would have told me though.”  
“I know, but I panicked and acted on impulse. I didn't mean to ruin the party for you, since you were clearly having fun.”  
“Tommy, I was having fun just because you were there with me.” he replies. Stiles feels his gaze on him. “I didn't care about that bloody party, what was important was spending some time with my boyfriend like we were normal people for once. But then you ran away and I didn't know what to think anymore, you know? Thought I'd done something wrong, maybe you didn't want me with you.”  
“No. God, no...” he tells him, placing a hand on his knee as to reassure him, and quickly glanced at him. “I would give anything just to have another moment like that with you. And I wouldn't dream of sending you away, okay? I love you so much, and you have no idea how much I wish we could be a normal couple with a normal life. But we're not... and after all that's happened in the last few years I tend to withdraw and face problems by myself. I didn't do it because I didn't want you with me, I promise.”  
Newt seems to hesitate for a while, understandable since everyone he knows keeps disappointing him lately, but then a hand slips into his and grips it and Stiles lets himself breathe once more. “I believe you. And I love you too, but you have to promise me that we won't keep any secrets between us. I don't want to lose you again.”   
“Good that.” he replies. That is, if he doesn't lose his mind first. “And when this is all over we can be together” he adds then, to convince himself more than the other.   
But will it really be over?  
Maybe that thought crosses Newt too, because he sighs: “This situation's getting serious, isn't it?”  
Stiles wishes that there could be another answer to that question. He wishes that the worst could never come, because it always means that someone will get hurt. First it was Lydia because of Peter, then Jackson almost died and even if they never got along he wouldn't want that miserable end for him. Erica and Boyd are dead. Allison, Scott and him have got very close to it.   
No, definitely not. He doesn't like when stuff gets real, even more so when he's the one with more problems. But he can't lie to Newt. “Yeah” he admits. “But we'll overcome it, as always.”  
He pulls into a parking lot and parks the car.  
“I thought we were going home?” Newt asks, realising only now that that definitely isn't the Stilinski's home. Well, that was the original plan, but at some point during the drive Stiles has completely changed direction and now they're outside the hospital. His friend would never tell him, but he has to make sure that he's still sane. Especially because he's started to notice some suspicious symptoms and he hopes he's wrong about it.   
He ignores Newt's worried face and gets out of the car, heading towards the entrance. He hears the other trying to match his pace, limping. When he reaches the desk where Melissa, Scott's mother, is sat, he asks for his doctor.   
“Doctor Gardner's not back until next week,” she tells him after calling the ward. “Stiles, are you okay?” she shoots a glance at the other boy too, seeing that both of them are restless.   
“I don't know...” he says, covering his face with a hand. “ I guess not...”  
Melissa immediately gets up, as if in front of her there was her second son and she had to do her best to make him feel better: “ Okay, honey. Come with me.”   
She leads them to an empty room and makes Stiles sit on the bed. She then takes a notebook and starts asking him questions on his symptoms. With the corner of his eye he sees Newt, sat on a chair nearby, leaning forward a bit. He does a mental checkup about all the problems he's been having: “Blackouts, but not for that long. And sleepwalking, which I used to do a lot as a kid. Um... also having some really bad anxiety.”   
“Panic attacks?”  
He nods. “Yeah, a couple. Oh, and I temporarily lost the ability to read for a while. But that might have to do with this giant magic tree and a whole human sacrifice thing.”   
Melissa smiles softly. “I recall something vaguely about that, yes. How many hours of sleep are you getting?”  
“Eight.”  
“A night?”  
“In the last three days...” he hears Newt moving on the chair, probably feeling guilty about not making it any better.   
After some hesitation and messing about with something on the table, Melissa starts asking again: “Been feeling irritable?”  
Stiles bites his lips. “Yeah. Possibly to the point of homicide.”   
“Inability to focus?”  
He shakes his head.  
“Impulsive behaviour?” she asks again, and before answering Stiles meets the boy's gaze. “More than my usual? Hard to tell.”  
“Vivid dreams during the day?”  
“Okay, basically all of the above? You know what I have?”  
The woman turns to him holding a siringe, which he eyes with concern. “I think so. Do you trust me?”  
“Not when you're holding a needle...” he replies, making Newt snort. He has to resort to all of his willpower not to run when Melissa injects the sedative in his arm. His sight immediately starts blurring. “You, Stiles, are one profoundly sleep-deprived young man. You need rest and you need it now. I guess your friend will stay with you as long as you'll be here, so don't worry about anything else, okay?”  
She helps him lay down, covering him with the white sheets. His eyes start getting heavy and as soon as he puts his head on the pillow he feels himself drifting away, but first, maybe because of the sedative, he manages to say one last thing: “Thanks, mom.”  
And then everything becomes black. 

* * *

He wakes at sunset. Newt's sleeping on the chair beside him where he's left him, his head placed on his arms on the bed. His first instinct is to move his fingers through his hair and stay there watching his angel face, but he doesn't want to risk waking him. So, very quietly, he gets out of bed and out of the room, unusually empty. He starts looking for Melissa, without finding her anywhere; her shift's probably over.   
He then turns to go back, but after passing through a door he finds the path blocked by some men completly dressed in black, with masks to cover their faces. He realises with horror that they're the ones Newt was talking about.   
He tries to go back from where he's come from but he's surrounded. They're four against one, he'll never defeat them alone.   
He stares at the one in front of him, who's just lifted his hand to touch his face.   
And suddenly a wild rage, even stronger than what he's ever felt before, that doesn't belong to him takes over. With a sudden movement he grabs the wrist of the creature and blocks it, staring at its deep yellow eyes. Another movement and he plunges his hand right into the thing's chest made entirely of shadow, until he's found what gives it life. He squeezes it and takes it out of the body as the creature dissolves into nothingness. He glances at the others as if to challenge them, but they don't move. They drift away after a few seconds.   
Stiles opens his hand to look at the thing that's struggling inside: a firefly, whose light's beginning to fade.   
“Stiles? You okay?”  
A voice that seems to come from afar brings him back to reality. The firefly falls from his hand and for a moment he just looks at his surroundings as to understand where he is, because he doesn't remember how he got there and what happened in the last two minutes. Scott and Newt are staring at him from the door, waiting for an answer.   
“Yeah,” he says, blinking, perplexed. “What happened?”  
Newt has a tired look on his face, which means he's just woken up and very abruptly. Scott's seems out of breath instead, his hands are covered in blood, as if he's just run all the way from his house.   
He's not sure he wants to know, but listens anyway.

NEWT’S POV

Newt doesn't realise that he's fallen asleep until he's suddenly awoken by Scott when the light's gone, and there's no need for words. Thomas' gone too. How did he not notice?  
He gets up abrubtly, sending the chair onto the floor and runs in the hall with the Hispanic to look for the boy. He would never leave without him, right? Maybe he's still asleep and he's sleepwalking throughout the hospital, but the sedative should have prevented something like this. Maybe he's just gone to the bathroom. They run until Scott finds him in a dark room. He's standing there doing nothing, completely still, his back pointed towards them. There's something really creepy about him like this, and Newt can't help worrying. What the hell's happening to Tommy?  
But when he turns towards them there's nothing wrong in him, even if he does seem a little confused for some reason. Newt frowns as he listens to the two of them talking, without tearing is gaze away from his boyfriend. They get to the room given to Stiles by Melissa, where Scott can fill them in:   
“Isaac, Allison and Argent found out what those creatures are,” he starts in fact as soon as they're safe from other people's ears. “They're called Oni, they come from the Japanese culture. They're demons whose job's to track down an evil spirit, a dark Kitsune called Nogitsune. When they touch you it's to test you're still you, which is exactly what the S means. It's Japanese Kanji. When I understood they were looking for Kira I brought her home with me to keep her safe. I still didn't know the Oni's intentions so for a while we tried to stop them. In the meantime my father was almost killed by one of them...” Scott sighs, rolling his eyes. So that's where the blood comes from then.   
“We found out Kira's a Kitsune, but she's harmless. As soon as Allison informed us, Kira and I surrendered. She's safe, so I guess they're looking in the wrong place.”   
For some reason, these words don't reassure Newt at all. Rather, they worry him even more. Why would they bother controlling him that has no connection with the supernatural?  
There's something wrong with the way they're moving. But since they've now taken every member of Scott's pack, logically... the only one that remains is Thomas. But it can't be him, the Nogitsune, can it?A dark spirit. Sure, Tommy can be cruel when he wants to, he didn't even hesitate when he killed Ratman and the Cranks, but since he's come to Beacon Hills he looks like he has softened... like he's gone back to being the innocent child from before the Trials.   
Still, he can't ignore all this unusual stuff that's happening to him.   
“Earth to Newt,” Tommy's voice distracts him from his thoughts. He realises that they've got up and reached the door, he's got to have spaced out for a while. “Let's go home, there's nothing to do here.”  
He nods and joins them, his heart bumping in his chest. Trying to make it look like a casual gesture, he slips his hand into Thomas' and tightens the grip, as if to prevent him from running away at every given moment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really hope you liked it. Next chapter's going to cover one of my favorite episodes and I promise it'll come soon.  
> I'm sorry for not updating for so long. I've had a terrible year, first I got sick for a few months and then hit a big writer's block. I swear I'm going to finish this though. I'm just taking a few more weeks off so I can wrap this up and then post the remaining chapters.   
> Also, I edited the other ones cause I saw some mistakes that made my skin crawl. I can't believe no one ever pointed them out to me ahahah  
> Anyhow, yeah, I'm here to stay this time, I promise.
> 
> So let's be friends! I'm also taking prompts on tumblr  
> I'm Elfo98 there too.


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